


Proof You've Survived

by tallyquark



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Betaed, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rex and Ahsoka are Platonic, Soulmate AU, Waxer and Boil are Platonic, even in a soulmate universe, light depition of self-scarring, your honor they are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29609583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallyquark/pseuds/tallyquark
Summary: Star Wars Soulmate Month Day 21: Scars disappear when your soulmate kisses them.It is said by the Eldest of the Order that soulmates are the answer to all the hurts in the universe. A rescind of all the things that hurt in life. That left a mark. That was why soulmates could only heal scars. Fix that which is broken, not stop it from coming to pass. Such is the will of the Force.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura, CT-7567 | Rex/Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Riyo Chuchi/CC-1010 | Fox
Comments: 36
Kudos: 380
Collections: Star Wars Soulmate Month 2021, Suggested Good Reads





	Proof You've Survived

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot got really big really fast. You're welcome.  
> Special thanks to Lithvirax for beta-ing, you are amazing! Also to the mods for this event. You guys are seriously cool.

It is said by the Eldest of the Order that soulmates are the answer to all the hurts in the universe. A rescind of all the things that hurt in life. That left a mark. That was why soulmates could only heal scars. Fix that which is broken, not stop it from coming to pass. Such is the will of the Force. 

As Obi-Wan sits in his room on the newly christened  _ Negotiator  _ (a name he was pleasantly touched by when a few of the 212th had approached him about it), a phantom ache pressed into his thigh where his Grand-Master had stabbed him with a rusty saber, he tries to push aside the bitterness such a sentiment causes to rise up inside him. It is not the Jedi way to be resentful, after all.

He remembers when he first learned of soulmates. A rare thing it is to find, Yoda had said while Obi-Wan and his crèche-mates sat gathered before him.  _ Rare, yes, rare indeed. The will of the Force it is, should you find yours.  _

After that meditation, led by the old master, he and his friends, Bant and Quinlan and Garen, and even Bruck had all sat together and rolled up their sleeves, or their leggings, to reveal little scars. 

“I got this swimming in the Fountains,” Bant had said, showing off a little star-like burst on her elbow. They had all hummed in appropriate respect before each pressed their lips to the little star, hoping that it would be that easy. Everyone had taken a turn, in that little circle in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, trusting like the children they were in the Force and in the hope that something greater than them existed amongst the stars. 

He wishes he could boast the same faith now, but life has a funny way of taking those things you once thought were indisputable truths of the known universe and twisting them into entirely new shapes. Absentmindedly, he rubs at his leg. 

“Umm, sir? Is this a good time?”

Obi-Wan startles from his thoughts at the familiar voice, and he turns to face the door to see his Commander standing there, back straight, data pad tucked under his arm, and face set in a mask of stoic professionalism.

“General?”

“Yes, Cody, sorry, come in. Tea?” Obi-Wan says, and he mentally shakes himself. It does no good to dwell on battles past. “Sit down, please.”

Cody does so, pulling out the spare chair in the room, and he sets the data pad down. “We have new intel for the upcoming assignment.”

“Ah, yes.” Obi-Wan says, and he crosses his arms, tugging at his beard as the small holotable in his desk activates, throwing a planet up in the familiar blue glow of the holograms Obi-Wan has long become accustomed to. He allows himself to fall into a familiar rhythm with Cody; this is a dance they are already well versed in, despite having only learned the steps four months ago. Or perhaps because of, Obi-Wan isn’t sure. Already, it feels like they have been fighting for a lifetime. 

Obi-Wan glances at the man beside him, and is stunned by how  _ easy _ it has been to get used to the stalwart commander by his side. Cody, as he has admitted to others, is a good man. Reasonable, fierce, determined, loyal. Sharp as a whip, when he puts his mind to it, and he does, easily, when they are planning, or, when Obi-Wan can convince him to play Dejarik with him. He is an excellent strategist, something that Obi-Wan has been grateful for these past few months, especially since Anakin’s knighting. 

When Cody stands to leave, after what felt like only a few minutes but by the looks of the chrono on the wall has been hours, a look crosses his face, one that Obi-Wan can’t quite pin down. It is one he has seen before though, one that he has been given when he stumbles aboard a ship cradling his ribs, or pressing at the bridge of his nose after a long council meeting. A buildup of some sort rising in the small room, and Obi-Wan wonders what his Commander could possibly be thinking. Cody has  _ beskar _ strong shields, no doubt given to him as a result of his heritage, and so Obi-Wan can only wait out the strange tension. 

“Get some rest, sir,” is all Cody says, and the buildup breaks. Obi-Wan sighs at his Commander’s increasingly familiar attempts to get him to rest, or eat, or drink, and he throws his commander a smile. 

“Only if you do, my dear.”

—

Cody should know better than to try and eat in the mess hall with the rest of the 212th, he knows he will get no peace, but it is the meal before a battle, and Cody knows that it’s possible, no,  _ probable _ , that there will be less men to fill the table afterwards no matter he and Kenobi’s efforts. No plan truly survives first contact, after all. So Cody grits his teeth and enters, grabbing the standard rations and moving across the room when he spots some of Ghost Company gathered around a table. 

As he sets his food down, he notices that Wooley is obviously in the middle of a conversation. “-I’m just saying. Every time we see Skywalker, he looks more and more like a shiny, not less!”

“Wooley, what are you talking about?” Longshot says from across the table, and Cody is inclined to agree with his sniper. What is Wooley talking about?

The clone in question rolls his eyes and makes a cutting motion with his finger over his eye. “When we were on that little jungle ball out near wild space, General Skywalker got hit in the face. And I mean,  _ really _ hit in the face,” he pauses and sets his chin on his fist. “I think it was Ventress. Anyway, General Kenobi was distraught when they met back up, Rex told me all about it. And since they didn’t get any bacta on it in the, ya know, 30 minute time span or whatever it is, it was an  _ intense _ look. Now, poof. Gone. Whamoo.  _ Whoosh _ .”

“Ok, ok, we get it,” Boil grumbles, shoving Wooley hard enough to stop him from nattering on. “Skywalker had a nice big one right on the money maker, so what? Maybe the Jedi can just, you know,” he wiggles his fingers a little. 

Cody resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.” He remembers that battle. Kenobi and Skywalker were still a pair then, it was right before they split. Cody was fresh out of ARC training, the new program that Alpha-17 had created after he got back from the front, eyes harder than they had ever been. Cody was still figuring out how to juggle the many metaphorical ropes that needed to be juggled to run half of the Open Circle Fleet. His General had come off the battlefield with Skywalker slung over his shoulders, blood covering both of them, and Cody had nearly had a heart attack until he had realized none of it was Kenobi’s. 

“Oh come on,  _ Commander _ ,” Waxer says, eyes alight with mischief, and Cody inwardly groans. “Skywalker has a  _ run’iriduur _ . Isn’t that  _ interesting? _ ”

“What is interesting, gentlemen?”

Cody only suppresses a flinch because Kenobi has done this enough times that he no longer startles, but everyone else at the table jumps a little. The commander turns to find his General standing with a cup of tea in his hand and a datapad tucked under one arm. He is grinning, and the way his eyes shift, dark blue and smiling, Cody just knows he caught more than the tail-end of their conversation. 

“Just speculation, General,” Longshot says, recovering first among those who jumped. “About General Skywalker’s distinctive lack of facial markings.”

Cody can see Kenobi work that over for a moment, and then he grins, moving forward. Cody automatically slides over, happy to offer the jedi a seat if it means he will actually eat something, like he promised in their planning session, and Kenobi settles beside him, taking a sip of his tea. 

“Yes, I was wondering if anyone had noticed. They’re not exactly subtle, are they?”

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Cody does groan then, and puts his hands in his face. “No, not-?”

He peeks a look through his fingers to see Kenobi smiling smugly at him. He resolutely puts his head back in his hands. 

“What, what is it?” Waxer askes, and he’s pouting. 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Wooley says, and he looks pleased as a tooka who took the cream when Waxer looks at him incredulously. They are all silent for a moment, before Boil punches his  _ run’iriduur  _ on the arm.

“Come on,  _ vod _ . It’s Amidala.”

“Wait, what?” Waxer says, and his face scrunches up. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Kenobi states, setting his tea and data pad on the table and reaching for one of the bland ration bars that sits in the middle. “I suppose they like to think that they are being subtle, but they just aren’t,” he sighs. “The foolishness of youth.”

“Oh come on, General,” Longshot says, raising one eyebrow in the same way Kenobi does, and Cody curses the fact that they are picking up the General’s bad habits. “You’re not so old yourself! I’m  _ oisk _ with nat born ages, but I know you can’t be that old.”

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. I will make an argument, however, that raising Anakin Skywalker has aged me considerably beyond my years. As you all know, he is by no means conventional.”

Cody looks at his General then, because there is a hint of  _ something _ in Kenobi’s voice, and he doesn’t like it. “Naw, keeps you on your toes.” He says, and Kenobi turns a curious gaze on him. “I promise,” Cody continues. “You don’t look a day over 12.”

Kenobi laughs then, as do the rest of those gathered around the table, and Cody is pleased. His General doesn’t laugh as much as he should. 

“So, how does that work, what with you being Jedi and all?” Wooley asks, once they quiet down again. Cody perks up at this, and who wouldn’t? It’s natural to be curious about Jedi, after all. 

“Well, we believe soulmates are a gift from the Force,” Kenobi says, and he settles into a stance that Cody has taken to calling his lecture stance. It is one he falls into easily, and Cody can only wonder at how many younglings have sat before this man in a similar position, curious and eager.

“As I am sure you are all aware, soulmates are tricky to find. You can’t exactly go around the entire galaxy kissing every scar presented to you.”

“Well, you can try!” Wooley says, and Crys punches him in the arm as they all laugh.

Once Kenobi settles himself, mirth dancing across his face, he continues. “So if a Jedi finds theirs, it is cause for celebration, as it is in most cultures.”

Cody chafes slightly at the assumption Kenobi has just made, about soulmates being common knowledge, but he knows it wasn’t meant to cause harm. His hand absent-mindedly drifts to grasp at his left wrist, and Cody rubs at a spot near where his forearm meets his hand, where he knows a spiraling sun lays in raised skin. Alpha-17 had taught him and his brothers about the known universe. He had seen the outside world when Cody was still learning the difference between a scope and a stock, had trained under Jango Fett from the very beginning, rather than only later in life, when he proved to be the top of his class. 

It was Alpha-17 who had taught Cody and his  _ vode  _ about soulmates, (if he hadn’t, then none of the  _ vod _ would have learned on Kamino) while Jango watched on with an unreadable expression. Wollfe had been excited, Cody remembers, to know that there was someone out there in the universe just for you. Cody thinks he remembers being excited once, too. He remembers sitting in that room after a successful test mission, one that  _ he _ had led, and hanging on to every world Alpha-17 uttered about how your soulmate was special, was someone who was your perfect half. Someone who complimented you in every way possible, even the ways you couldn’t expect. And then Jango had spoken, his eyes a deep dark pool as vast as the Kaminoian Ocean, about Mandolorian tradition regarding  _ run’iriduur _ , about carving symbols into your skin that would stand there until  _ runi  _ met  _ runi _ , and your skin could once more be as it was before the world touched you.

_ There’s something special about marks that you  _ decide _ to give yourself drifting away, right off your skin _ , Jango had said.  _ Scars in battle are an honorable thing. Why offer up a part of your story to be taken, when you can give parts of yourself, intentional parts, to your other half? _

Cody had felt odd about that, for some reason he couldn’t name then, but he had paid as much attention to Prime as he could, because Jango was the closest thing he had had to a  _ buir,  _ besides Alpha-17. Cody knows better now, but he had been young, a shiny, brand new. 

The kaminoans had never mentioned soulmates, because to them clones were just  _ numbers _ , property for the Republic. But he wasn’t a number, he was  _ Kote _ , Cody, he liked to watch the sunrise over planets while in orbit and had painted his armor to reflect as such. He loved his brothers, but he wasn’t afraid to make hard decisions. He was a 91% match to the Source, to Jango Fett. And he had a soulmate out there, he knew because Alpha was many things, but he wasn’t a liar.

“But what about the whole ‘attachment’ thing?” Crys asks, and Cody is dragged back into the conversation. He throws a look at his General, but Kenobi doesn’t change his stance at all, except for that he smiles at the clone. 

“You have struck the heart of many debates, my young friend. It is true that attachment can be a dangerous thing for a Jedi. Imagine, if you will, someone of my power, who is so obsessed with someone or something that they would do  _ anything _ to save them. Save them from harm, or woes, or even death itself. Now, there is nothing wrong with seeking to stop someone you love from feeling pain, but  _ death _ . Well, death is a natural part of life. An intricate dance. Light and Dark. Push and Pull. Life, and Death.”

“Not gone,” Cody says, because this is starting to sound familiar, like days under Alpha’s instruction, passing on second hand knowledge. “Just marching far away.”

Kenobi spreads his hands and tips his head, the light flashing on his copper hair. “Just so. Now imagine what someone like me could do, if I were so inclined to try and  _ stop _ death.”

They all pause for a moment, and Count Dooku flashes through Cody’s mind, and his pesky General Ventress.

“Not sure we have to imagine it, sir,” Boil says, and Cody nods minutely. 

“Ah, but you must.” Kenobi says, and his voice has turned grim. “Dooku, Ventress, they have done terrible things; they are but a  _ fraction _ of what the Dark Side has to offer. The Sith are an old enemy, and in Ancient times, when the Sith Wars raged across the galaxy, no one was safe. There was nowhere to hide, for the Force is our Ally, and it resides in All. The Sith committed such atrocities that to even speak of them here would be asking for trouble. That is the line we Jedi have to walk. Love, not attachment. A willingness to let go. To keep living in the light.” He pauses, takes a breath, and then looks around. Cody is sure all their faces have fallen from the teasing manner they had before held, and Kenobi blinks. “Terribly, sorry, I didn’t mean to get so philosophical. In short, Jedi can love, but we must simply be  _ careful _ .”

“No apologies needed, General,” Wooley says, and Cody is glad his brother isn’t afraid of the silence, because if Cody thinks about what Kenobi has just said for too long, he might just die a little, because he didn’t  _ know _ that about the Jedi. He knows that almost everything he learned about the Jedi on Kamino was inaccurate, but for some reason the ‘cold, unfeeling’ part had always stuck in him. Now, like ice in the rising sun, his reservations have vanished before Kenobi’s words. 

“But back to Skywalker, just how does he think he’s being subtle, like at  _ all _ .” Longshot says, and they all laugh again, banishing any residual oddness from Kenobi’s explanation had brought.

“Now that, my friend, I cannot explain.”

  
  


—

The war marches on, and Cody finds that he has little time to speculate on what Kenobi said in the mess hall that afternoon. How can he, when worlds fold to the Seperatist cause like a stack of cards, one after the other, and the 212th is increasingly called in to deal with more and more situations. Cody knew this is how it would be, knew since the time Alpha-17 pulled him aside and told him that  _ he _ would be Marshal Commander, operating as the right hand to a High General, the same General Alpha had served with briefly. 

“ _ You’ll like him,”  _ Alpha-17 had said, pinning a rank bar to his grey uniform. “ _ Kenobi’s a handful, but he has it where it counts. I don’t have much say where you all go, but I can do this for you.”  _ And Alpha had looked up, met Cody’s eye, and smiled, gesturing to the  _ vode _ around them. “ _ And you can do what you can for them. _ ”

That had been ages ago, and Cody can only cherish the memory. He doesn’t know if he’s helped his brothers in his position, but he does what he can, like Alpha asked. 

“Something on your mind, Cody?”

Kenobi’s voice pulls Cody from his memories, and he meets the gaze of his General, who sits across from him at the little table in his quarters. They often work on reports together here, as Kenobi’s rooms are just the slightest bit bigger than Cody’s, and it makes them easier to work through, when there is someone else to fill the silence. 

Cody shrugs “Just memories.” He tries to go back to his report but before he can even begin to read what he thinks is a request for more medical supplies, Kenobi scoots his chair back and stands, arching into a stretch that is oddly distracting to Cody for a moment. 

“Meditate with me?” Kenobi says, and Cody blinks. His general has asked him before, but he has yet to say yes. Perhaps…

He glances down at the report on his datapad, and then back up to his General. His eyes are so earnest, and Cody finds his reluctance crumble before them. 

“Alright, sir. Though I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it.”

Kenobi huffs a laugh and settles upon the ground, tucking his feet into the crooks of his knees as he folds his legs into a criss-cross. Cody follows suit, not quite sure if he’s doing it right, and Kenobi smiles and places a hand on Cody’s knee. 

“Meditation isn’t something you can really be bad at. As long as you relax, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” 

Kenobi sounds so sure of himself, and Cody can only nod, and try to ignore how cold his knee feels when Kenobi removes his hand and settles, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Follow my breath, Cody. Try to empty your mind; focus only on the feeling of the air entering through your nose, and leaving through your mouth.”

Cody tries to follow along, but after a short while, he risks opening one eye to take a glance at his General. In the darkened light of the room, his normally-auburn hair has deepened into a steeped brunette, and Cody finds his attention catching on the scars visible on Kenobi’s hands, some so pale he can barely make them out, others starker against the skin on the back of his hands, short but deep. Cody’s attention is drawn to his face as Kenobi takes in an especially deep breath, and he notices that there is the faintest line making its way horizontally across the bridge of his nose. He wonders how he could have missed it before, but now that he has spotted it, he doesn’t think he could ever  _ not _ see it. 

Kenobi opens one eye and Cody flushes slightly as his General focuses on him. “Curious, Commander?”

Cody flushes further and tries to remember his training, about shielding the mind. “No sir.” 

Kenobi opens his other eye and squints at him. “You know, your shields are quite impressive, but I _ could _ feel it, just for a moment. Ask away, please!” He pauses, and his expression shutters slightly. “Of course, only if you want to, Cody.”

Cody pauses, before briefly tightening his jaw. What could be the harm, really, in asking? Kenobi has been fair, and Cody trusts him. “I was just noticing a few scars, sir. Sorry.”

Kenobi immodestly lights up, and all attempts at meditation seem thrown out the window as he, almost bashfully, brings a hand up to trace the bridge of his nose, where Cody has been staring. “Ah. Perfectly natural, of course.” He taps at his nose. “This one is courtesy of Ventress. I’m not sure what you know of Jabiim, but—“

“That was the last battle Alpha-17 was in,” Cody says, perking up a little “Nasty campaign, from what I’ve heard.” 

Kenobi looks surprised, before comprehension dawns across his features. “Oh, yes, I had forgotten that you would know Alpha. Interesting man.” He chuckles, before his expression darkens, and he sighs. “Yes, Jabiim was one of the of the worst so far. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but some Jedi have been having a hard time adjusting to the title of General. In those early days especially.” He drops his gaze, and places his hands on his knees. 

Cody has heard the chatter on the unregulated comms, brothers lamenting the fact that their  _ jetti _ seem to have the same familiarity with being in command as any brother would with the ways of the Force. Which is to say, little to none. He, however, has never experienced such incompetence, and he had assumed that his brothers were exaggerating. Apparently not. “Ventress doesn’t seem like the type to get the jump on you, sir.”

Kenobi looks back up and chuckles darkly. “No. No, she didn’t give me this in battle. I was a POW for about a month, presumed KIA until Anakin convinced the others that I was still alive. There aren't many sentient rights involved when a Sith is trying to Turn a Jedi, I’m afraid.”

Cody feels his mind briefly screech to a halt, and he abruptly feels sick. “Turn?” If Kenobi got that scar as a POW then that means—

“Yes, she was quite determined. I won’t go into detail, but it was unpleasant, to say the least. Alpha was integral to our escape.” Kenobi shrugs, and once more traces across the bridge of his nose. 

That is a lot to unpack. Cody stays silent for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts. He knows that Ventress seems oddly obsessed with his General. He has always thought it was just happenstance, or a result of Kenobi’s ridiculous tactic to flirt with anything that moves. Or just on par with the fact that every Seperist leader they meet wants to be the one to bring down High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi. But if she held Kenobi as a POW, gave him scars and tried to  _ turn _ him, then Cody now has about a million new reasons to keep Ventress as far away from his general as possible.

Abruptly, he remembers when Kenobi pushed so hard to free his brothers from that POW camp. He knows that his General cares, has seen that in his actions, but this puts a new spin on what he knows of Kenobi. His general  _ knows _ what it is like to be held, captured,  _ tortured _ , and Cody is abruptly very grateful for General Skywalker. He doesn’t  _ like _ the man, not really, his schemes are scatterbrained at best and downright kriffing  _ horrible _ at worst, but that same stubborn determination convinced the other generals that  _ his _ was still alive. The thought that he might never have gotten to meet Kenobi...

“I’m glad you made it out, sir,” is all Cody says, and Kenobi’s eyes twinkle in the way that they often do. In the half-light, Cody is drawn in momentarily. The thought takes him, briefly, to run his thumb over the light scar across his general’s nose. 

Startled, Cody yanks his thoughts back into proper order and he leans back, hoping Kenobi hasn’t noticed anything. Apparently, he has good shields, but he doesn’t constantly have that thought going in his mind, the little battle chant Alpha taught him and his  _ vod _ to keep in their mind when dealing with Force  _ oisk _ . 

“I think we should continue our reports, sir.” Cody says, and he hopes it sounds as natural as he feels it isn’t. 

Kenobi only smiles and stands, offering his hand. “Of course, Cody.”

Against his better judgment, Cody takes the offered hand, and as they settle back into the quiet of paperwork, he tries to keep his mind on the task at hand, and not on the way his general’s hand had curled around his like it was made for it. 

  
  


\--

Their intel was off.

Cody curses as heavy artillery rains down around them, the high canyon walls on one side and the droid tanks on the other boxing them in. He crouches besides his General and they both flinch to the ground, Cody laying an arm over Kenobi’s head as he half lays on him because he  _ doesn’t wear any armor _ , doesn’t wear a  _ helmet, _ and the blast lands somewhere behind them and to their left, and debris rain down on them. Everything is made worse by the fact that mines are pocketed throughout the canyon, and Cody hates that the droids are so carefree with their own lives, because the mines are causing  _ problems _ . 

“We need to get an air strike in here!” Kenobi shouts, straightening, and Cody grunts, because what else can they do? Their line was easily broken what feels like hours ago, and now their forces are scattered across the field, pockets of blaster fire and screaming and explosions all across the canyon floor. 

“What good will it do if we can’t find the tactical droid?” Cody shouts back, because this is a planet-wide conflict, and he knows that they simply don’t have the  _ pilots _ to fight at every hotspot on the map. 

Kenobi shoots him a begrudging look, before he taps the comm-link in his vambrace. “Admiral, do you read me? This is General Kenobi, requesting an immediate air strike.”

The comm link buzzes static for a moment before the Admiral’s voice carries through. “I’m sorry General, but all our air squadrons are currently dealing with sectors five, seven, and fifteen. The earliest a y-wing could get to your location would be fifteen minutes!”

Kenobi’s eyes harden, and Cody closes his eyes briefly, allowing himself this one moment, safe behind his bucket. “That isn’t good enough.”

Kenobi frowns at him, and they both duck as another explosion rattles the ground nearby. “Keep me posted, Admiral. The sooner the better.”

Cody risks a look around the small cover they have found and immediately grabs his General’s arm. “Come on, move!”

Kenobi follows his lead, and they just barely manage to leap away as a smoking hole is blown into the ground, right where they had been. Cody hears Kenobi mutter something under his breath before he stands to his full height. “Cody, do we have any men at the top of the canyon?”

Cody looks, quickly, and—“Karking Sith hells,  _ no.”  _ And with an air strike out of the question, that means they are going to have to try and hold their position, something that is looking more and more impossible. 

Kenobi nods and then he crouches down. Cody has only a brief moment to wonder what in the universe his General is doing, and then Kenobi  _ jumps _ , straight into the air and Cody can only watch with his heart in his throat as blaster fire barely misses him. The apex of his jump is about two-thirds the height of the canyon around them, and he almost floats for a moment, before he comes back down with the grace of a panther-cat, landing in a crouch. Cody is stunned, a voice suspiciously similar to Rex sounding in his mind:  _ you like that? Hot isn’t it? _ but he quickly regains his composure. This isn’t the first time his General has done something  _ crazy _ before. He moves quickly to crouch behind a downed clanker, and Cody follows him, barely a step behind. 

“Sir?”

“The tactical droid is over there, I could just see them in the farthest tank.” Kenobi says, huffing, his hair flopping into his eyes, and Cody nods, before ducking as another shell screams overhead.

“What’s the plan?”

Before Kenobi can answer, a shout of “Commander!” has them both turning to see Wooley, Crys, Longshot, Waxer, and Boil running furtively across the open ground to their position. Cody feels light as a cadet, for a moment, at the sight of his squad. 

“What’ve we got?” Wooley shouts, as they all slide to a stop in front of him and Kenobi. Cody shoots his General a look, and even with his bucket, Kenobi seems to get the message. 

“The tactical droid is about a klick that way,” Kenobi points, and Cody watches his brothers’ try to follow the General’s finger, attempting to spot it. Obviously, they can’t over the wall of tanks. 

“Bombers won’t be here for another fifteen minutes, and at the rate those tanks are moving, I say we don’t have that kind of time.”

“You could say that again,” Crys says, peaking around the droid. “It’s a shitshow, sirs.”

Kenobi quirks an eyebrow. “Quite. Now, you showing up gives us options. If we rush the tanks under the cover of a smoke grenade, we might just be able to turn this around. If you can cover me and Cody while we make for the tactical droid, and get as many of those tanks grounded as you can, we have a chance.”

There was a beat of silence after Kenobi said that, and Cody was going to lose that bet with Rex after all, his general  _ is  _ crazier than Skywalker, Force _ damnit _ . But Kenobi makes it sound so simple, an easy op, and what other choice do they have?

“Well, better to die in a blaze of glory,” Wooley says, and Cody groans, grabbing his blaster and checking the power. Sixty percent. Enough for this, at least. 

“Just so,” Kenobi says. “If we’re all in agreement, then on my mark?” 

“Yes sir!” They all say, and Cody mentally buckles down; this is going to be hell.

“Three, two, one!” 

They all burst out from behind their meager coverage and Cody immediately begins firing at the droids who notice them. His brothers follow suit, and they all follow Kenobi as he creates a halo of safety with his lightsaber, the blue light basically a solid wall in front of them as he carves a path through the droids. Longshot breaks off for the first tank, Waxer the second, and so on until it is just him and Kenobi. Explosions accent the pounding of Cody’s heart in his ears, then they are at the base of the tank. It is huge, a moving fortress, and Cody just catches a glimpse of the tactical droid in the window of it before Kenobi jumps atop it, slicing the turret in half and dragging his saber through the roof, trying to get inside. 

Cody covers him, shooting at a near constant pace, gun warming in his hands, as he tries to make sure his general doesn’t get shot in the back. In the back of his mind, he files away the thought that maybe he should be the one to take out the tank, as seeing Kenobi is the one who can  _ deflect _ the blaster bolts. 

But then suddenly Wooley is running towards him, shooting to try and help cover the general, and then he cocks his head and Cody half turns as he shouts “Grenade!”

Cody turns to see a blinking orb bouncing towards him, thrown from the right from a despot of droids he hadn’t  _ noticed _ . He scrambles backwards and jumps away, barely clearing the blast radius. Ears ringing, he stands before ducking under cover as another explosion rocks the ground beneath him. The grenade must have triggered a mine, because dirt and rocks rain down around him. He sits there a moment, trying to regain his bearings, and then his HUD fritzes out, rendering him sightless until he pulls his helmet off with a growl and tosses it on the ground, fear crawling up his throat at the thought that his General is now taking the tank down  _ alone _ .

He unclips a droid popper from his belt and lobs it in the direction the grenade came from. When he hears the tell-tale  _ fizz _ of electricity, he hops back into the open and barely blocks a blow to the face from a gun barrel, deflecting it so the hit clips him on the side of the head instead of his nose. Quickly, he spins, the reinforced toe of his boot catching the droid on the chin. As the clanker’s head goes flying, he grabs his blaster, letting a stream of fire into the area around him. 

Head still ringing, Cody fights his way back to the tank, where Wooley is laying cover fire. He joins his brother just as Kenobi finally cuts through the tank’s armored plating, and then Longshot is there too, standing back to back with Wooley as the General jumps into the hole he has created. Everything is still for a moment, until Kenobi jumps back out of the hole and breaks into a sprint. “Run, they rigged it, run!”

Cody falls into step behind his General, as do his brothers, and they run, but then Cody notices that, right where the General will step lies a blinking light, and Cody’s blood turns to ice because that is a ground mine, rigged to blow and without even a thought he pumps as much power as he can into his legs and he tackles Kenobi, throwing himself between the mine and his general as it detonates. The joint force of the explosions throw them into orbit, Cody thinks, but no, that’s not right, because he hits the ground and slides, breath leaving him with a  _ whoosh _ , and  _ oh _ , his head  _ hurts _ , and there is a burning pain at his back and his side, and he thinks he might be sick.

“Cody! CODY!” He hears and he blearily tries to raise his head, but that makes him feel like he’s gonna  _ vomit _ , so he just turns his head to the side instead. Kenobi is crawling towards him, and there is blood running down his left side and Cody can’t help it, a cry bursts from his lips as he finally regains his breath. 

Kenobi looks panicked at that and then he is at his side, his normally clear blue eyes burning with an inner fire that lights them up like the lightsaber he holds, and he gently cradles his head. Cody looks up at his General and tries to smile, but there is a wetness coating his face and he tastes blood in his mouth as his vision begins to darken. 

_ General _ , he tries to say, but instead says “G’nl” and Kenobi looks stricken as he takes his robe in his hands and rips it apart, pressing the shreds of fabric against his face. It hurts, but everything hurts, so Cody allows it. Distantly, he recognizes the fact that he can’t quite see out of his left eye. He wonders if he should be worried about this. 

“Cody, Cody stay with me.” Kenobi says, and his voice is shaking, but he tries to smile. There is blood on his teeth. “You can’t die here, you saved my life! I have to return the favor!” 

Cody looks his General in the eye and raises a shaking hand. “Don’t owe me a’thing,” he slurs, and Kenobi takes his hand, clasping it in his own. “It’s what I was made to do.”

Kenobi’s gaze hardens at that and he presses the fabric harder into the side of Cody’s face. “No, you were not created to die, you  _ weren’t _ , you deserve  _ better _ than this; Cody stay with me, come on my dear.” 

He is interrupted as blaster fire fills the air again and Kenobi looks up, his gaze shuttered as some of the 212th come into view. They are fighting off the stragglers, but the canyon walls still box them in and, despite the tactical droid’s demise, they are still a problem. The Jedi taps at his comm-link, hand clasped in Cody’s and when the connection establishes he barks “Captain, we need reinforcements at these coordinates!”

“Right away sir!” Comes the response and Cody allows hope to blossom in his heart. The General looks down at him, surprised, and Cody remembers that Jedi are empaths.

“‘M not going anywhere, sir.” Cody sighs, and his vision is darkening. He looks back up to Kenobi, and his general is framed in the light of this planet’s sun, his hair a glowing halo of fire while his eyes rage like the storms of Kamino, powerful and deadly.

_ Beautiful _ , Cody thinks, and he is sure he must be concussed, because even now, that’s not appropriate. Is it?

His eyes catch on a small scar that has been exposed by the destruction of the general’s cloak. It wraps around Kenobi’s neck in a band, and it is faded with time, but Cody is still fascinated by the whorls of skin he has never seen before. He is abruptly reminded of the conversation in the mess hall, and they one shared in Kenobi’s quarters. As his consciousness slips through his grasp like sand, he wonders.

\--

Obi-Wan has not felt this kind of  _ panic _ in a long time, panic that crawls up his throat and nestles in his gut. He thought he had left it behind on Naboo with the sight of the Zabrak Sith falling down the reactor shaft.

He noticed the landmine far too late, the warning in the Force something barely-heard over the  _ run-run-fire-death _ that the seemingly far-greater threat of the tank had been bleeding into the air. Without his commander’s timely intervention, he would be dead. And now Cody is laying on the ground, bleeding from a wound to the head that would have killed a normal man, and Obi-Wan has to shove his panic  _ away,  _ because if he dwells on it to long then this battlefield will morph into another, far away and desperate, and he need to be in  _ this  _ moment if Cody is going to live. He wonders, for a moment, if this is what his Commander feels like when  _ he _ goes out without a helmet. 

“Waxer, Boil, stay here,” he says, and he gently lays his commander’s head on the ground. There is still fighting, and he is going to do what he can to secure their position. But when he stands, his world goes sideways as his ribs  _ burn _ and he struggles to breath for a moment, pressing a hand to his side. His fingers come away wet with blood, and Obi-Wan thinks it's a bad sign that he can’t  _ quite _ feel his fingertips, and that he can taste iron in his mouth.

“ _ Harr’chak _ ,” someone curses, and Obi-Wan looks up to see the rest of Ghost Squad surrounding him. He grimaces, and tries to stand again. No such luck, and Crys catches him when he stumbles for his efforts

“We’ve got reinforcements coming, General,” Longshot says as Crys gently sets Obi-Wan down next to Cody, and he nods. Captain Nyx had responded in the affirmative to his request and the familiar sight of the 212th are slowly making their way here. With any luck-

Blaster fire echoes through the air, but it is the distinct whine of DC-17s, and Obi-Wan looks up as a squad breaks through the ranks of leftover droids, converging on their position. And then his comm-link crackles and “ _ General, airstrike headed your way”  _ resonates from it. 

Overhead, the roar of Y-Wing Bombers echoes through the canyon and a medic crouches beside Obi-Wan, pressing bacta-coated gauze into his side. 

“No,” the Jedi says, “The Commander needs more immediate attention.” He can augment his body’s reaction to his injury with the Force. Cody cannot. 

The medic looks up, surprise written across the set of his shoulders, but he nods a “Yes, General,” and settles at Cody’s other side. Something high strung and agitated abates in his chest at the sight, and he allows himself to slump, only a little, with Cody safely in his arms still, as he says into his comm “Gentlemen, victory is ours.”

Around him, the clones cheer, and Obi-Wan lets their battle excitement wash over him. Underneath is grief, deep and heartbreaking, and Obi-Wan resists the urge to  _ scream _ because their intel had been  _ wrong _ , not overly so, but enough to nearly cost the campaign. Is it truly victory, when they had suffered such heavy casualties? When Cody lay in his lap, bleeding and dimming in the Force?

“He’s going to be alright sir,” the medic says, zipping his pouch closed and standing. Obi-Wan lets his gaze travel to his Commander, who is now heavily bandaged across the face, and gauze has been stuffed under his chest plate. Obi-Wan hopes that his Commander’s eye was spared, but he knows that if it wasn’t, Cody will be receiving the best prosthetic the Republic has to offer if he has anything to say about it. 

So Obi-Wan lets the medic fuss over him as drop ships land, and more medics jump out, spreading out across the field while his CMO, Helix, runs to him, the criss-crossing pattern across his helmet oddly fascinating to Obi-Wan for a moment. 

“Nice to see you made it out sir,” Helix says, picking him up and slinging his arm around his shoulder. 

Obi-Wan shrugs, and looks back to keep an eye on Cody. They are lifting the Commander onto a stretcher, and the medic who found them is hovering. 

“Don’t worry, General,” Helix says, as they start to walk towards the gun ship. “He’ll be alright.”

Obi-Wan lets his panic run free, for just a little bit longer, letting it light up his veins like electricity, before he shuts it down completely. Helix is right. Cody will be fine.

\--

Cody wakes up with the minty, off-putting taste of bacta in the back of his throat and an empty stomach. He lets the sensation return to his limbs, from his toes all the way up to the crown of his head, before he attempts to open his eyes. 

Relief fills him when he can see out of both eyes, he remembers losing sight, but apparently he hadn’t actually lost anything. The stark white halls of the medical bay greet him, along with the smell of antiseptic and the  _ clicking  _ of boots against the hard floor. He is also made aware of a heavy weight on his legs, and Cody glances down and abruptly feels like he has short circuited. 

_ Maybe I’m dead _ , he thinks in disbelief, because  _ General Kenobi’s _ head is practically in his lap. The jedi looks different in sleep, face smoothed of some of its lines, and the soft puffs of breath that escape Kenobi’s mouth push at hair that has fallen into his eyes. The faint scar across the bridge of his nose can barely be seen in the fluorescent light of the med bay. 

Cody’s attention is drawn to the door as it hisses open and Helix steps in, holding a datapad. The medic looks up and Cody sees the brief flash of surprise cross his features, before his CMO’s expression settles into one of casual professionalism.

“Commander,” the Chief Medical Officer says, and he walks over to the IV line on Cody’s left side. “How are you feeling?” 

Cody shrugs and he feels a new pull to the side of his face. Carefully, he brings a hand up to his head. Where before, his figures traced the familiar lines of every brothers’ face, now, his fingers catch on raised skin, curling up from underneath his eye and up around his brow. 

“Ah, yes, quite the addition you’ve got there,” Helix says, as he takes the IV down and carefully removes the needle. “You’re lucky you didn’t lose your eye.” 

Cody is going to answer, but then Kenobi shifts and both clones freeze as the Jedi sits up, sleep still heavy in his eyes. His gaze sharpens, however, when he notices that Cody is up. 

“Cody,” he says, and his accent curls around his name in a way the Marshal Commander has never noticed before. “You’re awake.”

“Yes, and you shouldn’t be,” Helix says stiffly, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, causing the dna-strand tattooed down the side of his face to lift slightly. 

Kenobi actually flushes at that, and Cody doesn’t understand what is happening. Maybe he’s still concussed? “Ah yes. I was- well.” His blue eyes come up to meet Cody’s own. “I wanted to make sure you were alright. I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that.”

Cody remembers that he has a tongue then, and he clears his throat. “No harm, General.” 

“As long as you find a place to crash,” Helix cuts in, eyebrow  _ still _ raised, and Cody needs to find a way to weaponize it, fast. The Seppies wouldn’t stand a chance with that kind of power behind them. “At least another four hours. You have to give the bacta patch a chance to do its job, and it does its job  _ better _ if you  _ rest. _ ”

Kenobi huffs a little chuckle and stands. “Correct as usual, Helix.” He walks towards the door, but pauses. “Cody, thank you.” He looks like he wants to say more, but the jedi doesn’t, looking oddly out of place for a moment.

Cody blinks, but then he lets a smile cross his face. “Of course, sir.” 

The General smiles, and walks out. Silence fills the room, until Helix sighs “He hasn’t left your side since the battle.”

Cody raises an eyebrow at his CMO, but Helix just shrugs. “It was the only way I could convince him to stay in medical. You know how he gets.”

Cody does know how their _ his _ General gets. Convinced that there are others who need medical supplies, bacta, more than him. As if he wasn’t one of the most important men in the galaxy. “Thank you, Helix.” 

Helix only eyes him, an unreadable expression on his face, before he gently places a hand on Cody’s forearm. “Get some rest, sir.”

Helix leaves, and Cody is left to his own thoughts. As sleep descends upon him, it is his General’s face that fills his thoughts, and how it had felt so right to wake up beside him, even under less than ideal circumstances. 

He is released soon after, with a warning to go easy on the ribs for at least one more day, and Cody can only agree, because otherwise Helix would keep him in the medical wing, and there are other brothers who need a bed there more than he. So he makes his way to his own room, getting used to the new sensation of the slight pull he feels whenever he bares his teeth or opens his mouth too wide. 

Cody sees his new scar in the reflection of his mirror in his little fresher, and he understands what Jango said about battle scars. Letting a finger trace the shape, he smiles. He survived what scarred him. His general survived. It is a part of his story now, a mark of his individuality. He’s no number; no other brother saved General Kenobi from a land mine and lived to tell the tale. 

As he casually catalogues the change to his appearance, Cody’s mind wanders to that portion of skin on the General’s neck that had been revealed in the battle. He wonders how Kenobi got such a mark, a mark that if he had to guess, was the result of a collar. 

Thoughts of Kenobi lead to what he can remember right before he passed out, and he flushes a little at the hazy memory of Kenobi hovering over him, shining like a star.  _ You deserve better than this _ , he had said, and something in Cody warms at that. He knows that his General is one of the good ones, but Kenobi doesn’t  _ have  _ to think Cody deserves more to be one of the good ones. But it does not surprise Cody that his General thinks so. His general, who invites him to play games in his quarters after a strategy meeting. His general, who sits down with shinies after battle and places a hand on their shoulder, his eyes so kind and his hands so willing to help any under his command. It gives Cody hope; he doesn’t know what for, but hope he does, all the same. 

\--

Something shifts in the relationship Obi-Wan has with his commander, after that battle. On the field, they are an unstoppable team, their synchronization and ability to fight together rivaled only by the ease with which Obi-Wan falls into step besides Anakin. Off the field, it is so  _ so _ easy for Obi-Wan to be in his Commander’s presence. Cody has a hidden humor, sharp and witty, and Obi-Wan can’t help but laugh. 

After one too many battles where Obi-Wan loses his grip on his lightsaber (which has never been a problem before, it was always  _ Anakin _ who could never stop flinging his weapon away from him), Cody approaches him, an unimpressed look on his face as he  _ unhooks _ the weapon from his belt which he has  _ modified _ , and Obi-Wan can’t help it, he smiles, his kyber crystal echoing his mirth as he hooks his ‘saber to his belt.

“You seem to have my lightsaber as much as I do these days,” Obi-Wan says, grinning, “I think she likes you.” 

His commander huffs. “I don’t know about  _ liking _ , sir, but I am well aware of how often your weapon ends up in my hands.”

There is a brief pause, and then they both speak, at the same time:

“You should train-”

“I would like to teach you-”

They both stop and stare at each other, and Obi-Wan motions with his hand. “Commander.”

Cody huffs and clasps his hands behind his back. “I was going to suggest you train with-with me, with a blaster. I don’t like the idea of you being weaponless.”

Obi-Wan blinks, and then he laughs. “My dear Commander, I was just going to offer to teach you how to wield a lightsaber.”

It is Cody’s turn to blink now, and his normally stiff composure loosens, a little. “Oh. Well, if you work on blasters, I’ll work with your lightsaber.”

They try it the next time they are in hyperspace, after reports have been filed and paperwork signed. Obi-Wan has never enjoyed reports, but filing them with Cody in the same room makes the work go faster.

“You’ve held a blaster before, right?” Cody asks, after they have rested and are once more in hyperspace, and he is just in his blacks, and his belt as they stand at the range, a wall of training blasters before them. Obi-Wan has discarded his outer robes for this; he usually does for a fight of any significance anyway. 

Obi-Wan shrugs, “Yes, of course.” Though years ago, his time with the Young will forever mark his soul, his heart. 

Cody gives him a glance, “Well, choose what you want to start with, then.”

Obi-Wan lets his gaze pass over the wall, and his sight settles on a DC-15. Obi-Wan goes to grab it, and while he has not used such a rifle in a long time, it is muscle memory for him to pop out the clip to check it, before adjusting the stock and scope to his liking. He turns to the targets and falls into the lightest meditation he can. His breathing slows, and he sets his finger on the trigger ( _ squeeze, Ben, don’t pull, Cersai says, her arms around his) _ and the rifle jumps softly in his hands as it discharges, hitting the farthest target spot-on. For good measure, he blasts four more, giving in to the slight temptation to show off, just a little.

A low whistle breaks him from his trance, and he turns to see Cody is squinting at the target.

“Wow, General. That’s a crack shot. Longshot would be jealous.” 

Obi-Wan chuckles and lets his arms relax. “The Force tends to help in these matters. Plus,” he fingers the barrel of the rifle absentmindedly, “I’ve been trained in long range weapons.”

He looks up, and Cody is giving him an inscrutable look, and his skin must be flushed from the lighting.“I didn’t know that was something Jedi did.”

Obi-Wan shrugs. “No, not usually, unless you want to, of course. I had a, well. An  _ unconventional  _ apprenticeship.” Thoughts drift back, skirting the edges of battlefields he would rather forget, and the sound of the deep sea as it groaned about his head. 

“Sir?” 

Obi-Wan shakes himself, and offers his Commander a smile. “I’m alright, Cody.” 

His Commander shrugs and picks up a DC-17, standard blaster of the GAR. “You obviously don’t need any help with long range weapons. Let me see what you can do with this.” Cody’s presence in the Force is difficult to read more often than not, but right now, he is filled with determination, shining and bright like the sun ( _ not like Anakin, who burned with the same ferocity as the binary suns he had been born under; no, Cody is dappled light filtering through the trees, safety in the warmth of the early dawn- _ ), and any reservations Obi-Wan may have about blasters melt away like ice before the spring sunrise that is Cody’s request.

He takes the blaster and curls his hand around its grip. The last time he held such a weapon, he was fourteen, an ex-padawan on a war torn world. He takes a stance, the stock braced against his shoulder, and sights down the scope. 

“Wait,” Cody says, and suddenly he is adjusting Obi-Wan’s grip, moving the blaster a little lower. Obi-Wan can feel his ears flush, just a little, as his Commander carefully adjusts his grip. How can he not, when Cody is so earnest and caring and wonderful? His attention catches briefly on Cody’s scar, and he successfully  _ completely _ ignores the sudden desire to trace across it with one finger. “If you hold it like this, then the kick-back won’t give you a black eye.” 

Obi-Wan meets his commander's gaze, amused despite himself. “Something you have experience with, Commander?” 

To his delight, Cody ducks his head, a smile teasing at his lips. “Maybe a little, sir.” 

Obi-Wan chuckles and once more sights down the barrel. The change in position makes it a little harder, but he squeezes the trigger anyway, in three short blasts, and hits three targets. Not spot on, but close. He huffs, lowering the blaster. 

“Don’t worry, sir.” Cody says, and is he holding back a laugh? “Practice makes perfect.” 

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes despite himself, but he sights again, and once more shoots the blaster. These shots are closer, now that he knows what the gun feels like, but not quite accurate. 

“We’ll make a blaster user of you yet, sir,” Cody says, and his arms are crossed. Obi-Wan feels a flick of impressed surprise from his commander, before it is stashed away behind the calm surface of his shields.

“Perhaps. I’ve never liked them though. So uncivilized.” Obi-Wan says, and he sets the blaster down. 

“Uncivilized, eh?” Cody says, and Obi-Wan has only a flash of _amusement-determined-cocksure_ to warn him before Cody has a pistol in each hand, and the targets are moving. _Pwuck-pwuck-pwuck_ his commander’s pistols go, and Cody’s gaze is focused as he shoots, stance confident. The targets light up as shots hit them, and Obi-Wan can only see what is happening because of the Force. 

The targets stop moving, and Obi-Wan leans over the little divider that keeps distracted feet from wandering onto the shooting range. Each target has a smoking hole dead in the center of its head, and Obi-Wan has fought besides this man, has been saved by him and saved him in return, but he can admit that that  _ is  _ impressive. 

Obi-Wan turns to look at his Commander, and Cody smirks, blowing at the top of each blaster like he is in a holodrama, the scoundrel. “Rex isn’t the only one who can shoot pistols. Perhaps they’re a little more  _ civilized _ for you?”

“I see your point” Obi-Wan admits, and he is rewarded with a quirked eyebrow. 

“We can’t all have laser swords, sir,” Cody says, twirling the pistols in his grasp before shoving them into their holsters, which hang from his hips on a belt. Obi-Wan’s eyes follow the movement of Cody’s hands as he places them on his hips, and  _ Force _ , he drags his eyes back  _ up,  _ because that is not a thought he should be entertaining  _ at all _ , not even when the skintight nature of the blacks the troopers wear under their armor leave  _ little _ to the imagination.

“And besides, I’m sure you’ll wipe the floor with me with that death stick. You’ve definitely got more experience with a blaster than I a lightsaber.” 

Obi-Wan huffs a laugh and shrugs, and tries to pull his mind out of the gutter. “Less accessible to the general public.”

Cody moves to put the pistols away, and then they make their way across the sparring ring, where other members of the 212th are either sparring or cheering their squad mates on. This is more familiar to Obi-Wan, the padding of the mats, the slap of flesh being thrown down onto the ground, the cheers of those watching. He settles into the familiar opening kata of Shii-Cho, the only true battle form, for all that it is taught to every youngling first, and turns to his Commander “Follow, if you will, Cody.” 

Cody nods, and Obi-Wan begins, making sure to go slow enough that Cody can watch. They are simple steps, but optimized to let the practitioner sense the flow of a lightsaber battle. They are doing these katas open-handed, so Cody can get a feel for them before Obi-Wan lends him his lightsaber. Cody is not Force-sensitive, but a lightsaber is only made easier to wield with the Force; it is not impossible to do so without the Force’s guidance. 

They step through the movements, Cody gaining confidence with each run through, and Obi-Wan is struck by how much he  _ enjoys  _ this, the simple and familiar dance of instruction. He has always loved teaching, and he regrets, for a brief moment, that Ahsoka is Anakin’s padawan, because he had requested her, but the council had seen fit to change that. He knows the young togruta has been good for Anakin, and he is happy for them. At least she is his grand-padawan. 

He pulls his thoughts back to the  _ here and now _ and smiles as he sneaks a glance to his side. Cody is settling into the movements, each run-through of the first kata set becoming more familiar to him. Obi-Wan feels pleasantly warm from their excursions, and he pauses as they come to a close of the set they are on. 

“Sir?” Cody says, and his eyes are wary.

Obi-Wan stifles a laugh. “I am going to show you what this set looks like with a lightsaber now. You’ve caught on to the movements very well.” Obi-Wan center’s himself and ignites his lightsaber, the familiar cyan glow of the blade casting the close vicinity around him in blue light. 

“Nothing I haven’t done on Kamino,” Cody says, shrugging, and Obi-Wan’s heart falls, just a little, like it always does when Kamino is mentioned. Oftentimes, the image of all those cadets, young and laughing, not knowing what they will be forced to enter, not really, occupies his thoughts. 

He pushes them away and settles into the starting position, “Just so,” he replies, and then he starts. 

The dance of the shii’cho kata is one he is familiar with. While he specializes in Soresu , shii’cho is the form of his childhood, of every jedi’s childhood, and, with his lightsaber lit, the familiar form feels like a dance with the universe, the Force flowing around him in collected rivulets of energy. He steps and lets the hum of his ‘saber, and the song of his crystal, flow through him. He has not indulged in this dance for some time, not since he last worked with Ahsoka on her Jar’kai. He lets himself let go, just a little, because he is in the company of those who he trusts  _ implicitly _ , and leaps higher than he normally would, spins faster, steps on platforms of air that allow him to hang above the ground slightly longer than he usually would.

Tonight, the Force seems particularly playful, and he has to make sure his shields are held shut tightly, lest he wander off into the starlight, giggling like a child.  _ Peace-happiness-mischief-trust-me  _ echoes around him, enough so that he breaks from his moving meditation when someone mutters  _ “Force” _ , taking in his surroundings in earnest. 

He is somewhat embarrassed to find most of the room’s attention has become focused on him, but he tucks that feeling away, far too used to eyes on him by now. He has had to become used to it, ever since he became the first Jedi to slay a Sith in a Thousand Years. But this attention is singularly attentive, openly  _ curious _ in a way that Obi-Wan has only ever felt among younglings. 

He catches sight of Cody, who has moved off the mat to stay well out of range of his ‘saber, and his eyes are bright, interested, and he has a flush just coloring the tinge of his dark skin. Obi-Wan can only assume that he is still hot from his own run through of the katas.

“I don’t think I can do all that, sir,” Cody says after a beat, obviously realizing that Obi-Wan has paused. 

Obi-Wan smiles and disengages his ‘saber. “Of course not, my dear. I’m afraid I got a little carried away.”

One of the audience members, a trooper Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize, chuckles. “That’s you getting just  _ a little _ carried away?” 

“Quiet, rookie,” one of his brothers says, slapping him upside the head. 

Obi-Wan shrugs, before closing the distance between him and his commander. He offers his hilt, and Cody takes it, awe briefly flickering over his features. 

“Well, are you lot all just gonna stand here?” Waxer says, shoving some of the shinies, and everyone else seems to hurry off to resume whatever it is they were doing before. 

When they are left with only a few curious members, Obi-Wan gently guides Cody’s thumb to the switch. “Go ahead, turn it on. It is at its lowest setting, so it won’t cut anyone in half. It may sting however.”

Cody does so, and Obi-Wan’s crystal once more sings as the blade ignites. Obi-Wan stands back, and he can’t help but notice that the blade’s light is casting a beautiful glow across Cody’s features, highlighting his cheekbones and catching on the play of his newly acquired scar, the one he got saving  _ Obi-Wan. _ Obi-Wan is abruptly possessed, once more, by the desire to trace the scar with his finger, maybe settle his hand gently against Cody’s face. 

He shuts down those thoughts fast,  _ again _ , Force, what is  _ wrong _ with him, and he steps back in as smooth a motion as he can manage. Cody’s eyes flick up to meet his, and his lightsaber reflects in them like a nebula. 

Obi-Wan sucks in a short breath, slightly dizzy for only a moment, before he settles into the opening stance once more. “Just like we were doing before, only now, you have the blade.”

Cody nods and begins to on his own accord, moving through the steps like he has known them all his life. Obi-Wan only has to offer guidance where the blade is concerned, and even then, Cody adjusts his grip on how he is holding the ‘saber easily. Obi-Wan tries to ignore the warmth that settles in him as he watches Cody move, but is not sure about his success. 

Eventually, Cody stops, and offers the hilt back to Obi-Wan. He takes it with a smile, and he lets himself place his hand on his commander’s shoulder. “Well done, my dear. Very well done.” 

Cody glances down in a rare show of bashfulness and then shrugs. “Not all that different from a baton, if you ask me. Just have to be careful of the blade you can’t feel in the balance. And no baton can deflect plasma blasts.”

Obi-Wan gasps in mock-offense, taking his hand off of Cody’s shoulder to place it over his heart. “Cody, did you just compare my  _ lightsaber _ to a  _ baton? _ ” 

Cody has a teasing smile on his lips as he raises both hands in surrender, “Oh no, sir, I could never compare your death stick to something so  _ uncivilized.”  _

“Why do I even bother,” Obi-Wan mutters, but his heart is lighter than it has been in a while as Cody flashes his teeth at him in a grin that is undeniable  _ Jango _ in origin. 

From that point on, he takes to sparring with his Commander more often, and it is good for him, he thinks. Working with his commander, teaching him katas or going hand to hand with him, is, quite simply,  _ fun.  _ A way to pass the time they spend in hyperspace, which can only be rivaled by the time they spend in battle. And isn’t that a depressing thought, but Obi-Wan can’t dwell on it long, because he has so many things to attend to, his duties to the Council, to his men, as a grand-master. The time he spends with Cody eases some of the ache in his heart. 

\--

The war seems to pick up its pace, to Cody. The Separatists churn out new weapons almost too fast to keep up with, and every day more brothers die for the Cause. Cody does what he can, but he is only one man, and they are at war with the Galaxy. 

They loose Ponds 

Cody is the one to let his batch mates know.

He does it over comms, in the chat no one really interacts with, himself included. They are all busy men, and while he enjoys talking to his brothers, they have lives to live, battalions, or in his case, system armies, to lead. But he is the Marshall Commander, and he had watched as that karking  _ hut’tuun demagolka  _ bounty hunter executed and spaced his little brother on the orders of  _ Boba _ karking  _ Fett _ , the  _ chosen one _ , who ran under all their feet as cadets but got to  _ stay _ a cadet while the rest of them got stretch marks along their spine from how fast they grew. Boba, who is a  _ brother killer _ , and Cody knows that the little tyke doesn’t consider himself as such, and that somehow makes it  _ worse. _

Rex comms him, later that night cycle, and Cody lets the sight of his  _ vod’ika  _ ease his aching heart, just a little. 

_ “You know what they say _ .” Rex says, his image fritzing slightly. Cody can see movement in the background; he remembers after a moment that Rex is in the middle-rim, helping with some kind of relief effort. “ _ Marching far away. You taught me that.” _

Cody huffs, and it sounds pathetic, even to his ears. Rex is the youngest of their batch, assigned CT for his genetic anomaly. He lost a brother too, and yet here he is, trying to comfort him. 

“ _ Oya _ ,” Cody murmurs, and he lets his face fall into his hand. “Little gods, Rex. He was  _ executed _ .”

Rex is silent, and Cody looks up, fearful that the transmission had cut. But no, his brother is still there, but he has moved into a tent. 

“I know,  _ Kote _ . I know.” Rex says, and he pinches at the bridge of his nose. Cody waits his brother out, and Rex eventually sighs. “Cody, I have to get back out there. You know how it is.”

Cody does, he knows, and he nods, waving a hand. “I’ll be alright. Go. Do your job” 

Rex smiles, but Cody can tell it is brittle. It will take time, but they knew this would happen, eventually. Everybody dies, and for a clone, that truth is especially relevant. 

The next time they are all on Coruscant, they all meet up at 79’s, even Fox, who was able to get away. To Cody, they all look more tired, certainly more world weary. After they have gotten well and truly sloshed, Wollfe pulls out a knife and rolls up the sleeves of his blacks. 

“For Ponds,” he says solemnly, and slices a neat, even cut on the outside of his forearm, near where his ulna meets the bend of his elbow.

“For Ponds,” they each echo as, one by one, they make a similar cut. Cody remembers, through the blur of alcohol and the slight stinging pain of the cut, that the last time they did this was when they were cadets, each carving a symbol into their skin under Alpha’s direction. 

After that, the conversation turns to lighter matters, because that’s what Ponds would have wanted. They all listen as Bly rambles on about his general; Cody feels oddly spiteful at this, and does the same. General Kenobi can  _ definitely _ jump higher than Aayla Secura. No one is surprised by the comparison contest that happens next, but they are surprised when Fox, in the middle of a rather glorious description of Kenobi Cody is trying to get through, jumps in and claims that a  _ Senator Chuchi _ is in fact the most beautiful being in the universe, and that he will fight anyone who tries to claim otherwise.

“Aww, no, Bly,” Wollfe groans, slamming his head on the table. “You’ve gone and infected him! Now he’s fawning over a blue skinned  _ girl _ too!”

“Hey, maybe it’s Cody’s fault!” Bly shouts out in protest. “According to the  _ Marshal Commander  _ over there, Kenobi has the  _ prettiest blue eyes you ever did see _ . Blue! Eh?”

“Marshal Commander  _ yourself _ ,” Cody growls, but the world is a little too blurry at the moment for him to launch himself across the table at his brother. Instead, he lays his head on Rex’s shoulder. Rex will side with him.

“Well I don’t care who infected me, because she’s the best thing in my life. Way better than you  _ di’kuts _ .” Fox says, and he promptly slams his palm on the table, causing Wollfe to jump and glare. “She’s my  _ run’iriduur _ .” 

They all exclaim and crowd closer, and Cody grabs his  _ vod _ ’s hand. Sure enough, the raised scar Fox had carved is now gone, and when Cody looks up into Fox’s eyes, he notices that Fox, much like General Skywalker, is cadet-smooth. Abruptly, Cody is  _ jealous _ , and he releases Fox’s hand with a huff. 

“Little gods,” Bacara exclaims, as they all lean back. “Fox, you Force-damned karking son of a  _ bitch _ .”

“Hey, don’t talk about my tube like that,” Fox grouses, and leans back to take another drink. 

Cody is inclined to agree with Bacara; of all their batchmates, Fox finds his other half first? Bastard.

Rex shoves at him, and Cody narrows his eyes at his little brother. “Come on, guys, Fox isn’t so bad. Imagine what  _ you’d _ be like if you had his job.”

They all groan at that, and Cody locks Rex in a headlock for trying to make them all emphasize with  _ Fox.  _

Abruptly, Cody realizes the implications of what Fox has said, and he lets go of Rex quickly. “Fox, are you, are you  _ safe _ \- is she-”

“She’s one of the good ones,” Fox says, eyes softening in a way they rarely do, anymore. “We’ll be alright. She’s one of the good ones. She’s working on a bill, even! With Amidala, and Organa; their crew. Get us more rights.”

“Raise a glass to that,” Gree slurs, and Cody feels his heart rate steady, just a little. He remembers, distantly, General Kenobi talking about such bills. They never seem to get very far in the senate. 

“Good,” Cody says, and Fox fixes him with one of his signature looks, piercing and partially responsible for his name. 

“ _ Kote _ , we’re all grown here.” Fox gestures, and some of his drink sloshes onto the table. “And I’m older than you anyways. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Only by thirty seconds,” Cody mutters, and everyone at the table rolls their eyes. 

“Not this again,” Wollfe groans. “I’m too sober to listen to you two gripe. Best thing about this whole karking mess we call our lives is that I don’t live in all your pockets anymore.”

“You  _ would _ be happy for that,” Rex says glibly. “I bet your men are too scared of you to challenge you to a round of target practice. Bet you haven’t lost since the last time I creamed you.” 

Wollfe growls and throws his cup at Rex. It misses him by a mile, nailing Bacara in the shoulder. Wollfe blushes as they all laugh again, and Cody resists the urge to say  _ I told you so _ . 

The night wears on, and Fox is the first to go, citing business. They all catcall him anyway, and Bly’s whistle is particularly sharp as Fox flips them off while he walks away. 

Eventually, they all trickle away, and Wollfe squeezes his shoulder as he leaves. Rex gives him a hug, and then it is just him and Bly at the table. They are both on shore leave for the next day-and-a-half, so they are in no hurry. 

They are silent for a moment, and then Bly sighs. “Were you jealous? I was jealous.”

Cody nods, and he sips at his drink, not caring to elaborate. 

“Little gods, Cody, what are we going to do?”

Cody looks up at that, and Bly is all melancholy as he flicks at a grain of salt on the table. Abruptly, Cody has to acknowledge this feeling inside, the one he gets whenever his general offers him a cup of tea, or when he floats with his legs crossed when it is morning and they are planetside. Cody has always admired the sunrise, but the first time he saw his general in the morning light, he knew that nothing could compare. He has to acknowledge this feeling, because Bly is his mirror image at this moment. They are both in love with their generals. 

Cody grabs his  _ vod’s _ hand. “What we’ve always done. Survive.”

Bly squeezes back, but he sighs. “Cody, I want to do  _ more _ than just survive.”

Cody doesn’t answer, but his mind travels back to all the times his General has saved him, when his General had said  _ you deserve more _ . Does he?

“Force, we’re depressing,” Cody finally says, and Bly laughs, tipping his drink back.

“Better to be depressing than boring, in my opinion.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

\--

By all the seven sith hells, he’s in love with his General. Cody can’t believe he’s let this happen. But then, that’s probably the point, isn’t it. Matters of the heart can’t be controlled. It doesn’t help that his only respite from the war, from life itself, is the time he spends with his General. In Kenobi’s rooms, which smell faintly like licorice tea and burble because of the small fountain his General keeps, the ache in his heart at the thought of the length of his litany can be pushed aside, for a moment. When they spar, or when he holds Kenobi’s lightsaber, which buzzes in his hand like it wants to explode, he feels at peace. 

How could he not fall in love with that?

Curse Bly, for making him realize his feelings. If they hadn’t talked, maybe Cody could have ignored the ache in his chest just a little longer. 

Not much longer though, because he  _ knows _ his General, knows his tells and tricks and the way Kenobi sits with the shinies after their first battle, whispering to them in a hushed tone. His feelings for his General snuck up on him, on the battlefield when Kenobi said  _ you deserve more _ , in the quiet hours they spent together after each campaign, in between the cracks in his armor as Kenobi knelt down next to that little twi’lek Waxer and Boil found on Ryloth and spoke to her in her native language, eyes soft and hands softer. In the way he keeps handing off his general’s lightsaber, time after time. 

Sith-damn him, he is well and truly  _ karked _ .

The sight of his General with a rifle perched on his shoulder, expertly letting shot after shot fly, hadn’t helped matters any. Or that fact that he cares  _ so much _ . When they spar, Cody has to keep his thoughts behind ray shields, to be seen and not acted upon.

His General is kind, and lovely, and Cody just knows that he has a  _ run’iriduur _ out there, somewhere, who will give him the universe. Cody can’t be that, he’s a clone, he’s not even a person in the eyes of the Republic ( _ though he knows that isn’t true, and he knows Kenobi doesn’t think it’s true _ ) and besides, who knows if he’ll even make it through this war. 

“Something on your mind, Cody?” Kenobi asks, looking up from his data pad, and Cody shrugs in his seat across from him. He only has the bottom part of his armor on, but he doesn’t feel exposed, not in the safety of his General’s room. Kenobi is eyeing him from underneath his hair, which has fallen into his eyes, and Cody can’t help the fact that his heart jumps a little at the sight. He wants to tuck it back into place. Why did he agree to sparring with his General on a regular basis? It has stripped away any sense of weight that  _ commanding officer _ used to hold, and now Kenobi is just  _ Kenobi _ .

Cody shakes his head and locks down on his thoughts. “No, sir.” Nothing really, beyond hopeless, wandering thoughts.

Kenobi eyes him, and then sets down his data pad. “Cody, there is no need for ceremony here. Please, call me Obi-Wan.” 

Cody quietly resigns himself to his fate, knowing that he will take this chance to be closer, even if it can go no further, and he nods: “Obi-Wan.”  _ Just Obi-Wan _

His General smiles, and Cody smiles back. 

—

“I don’t know how you always get us into these situations, sir.”

Obi-Wan glances back at his commander, who is dutifully following in his steps, DC at the ready and helmet light turned on. Obi-Wan turns his attention back to the task at hand, which, for the moment, is trying to find a way out of the cave system they’ve found themselves in. The Seperast prescience here on Alaspin had been reported in by clone intelligence officers, alongside a possible sighting of Grievous. The 212th had been sent to investigate, as they often were when Grievous was involved. Only, when they got here, there was no Grievous, and an awful lot of droids. The battalion had been split up, and Obi-Wan and Cody had ended up alone. A lucky grenade shot had gone off near them and landed them in this cave system, crumbling the ground underneath them. Obi-Wan had barely had time to encase himself and Cody in a protective Force field before they had crashed into this tunnel system. Obi-Wan may be of the opinion that there is no such thing as luck, but that droid certainly had it, if such a force exists.

“I don’t know what you mean, commander. This is a perfectly normal operation!” Obi-Wan says, as he lifts his lightsaber higher. They have been walking in this tunnel system for a while now, with only the slightest sense of the Force guiding their direction. He steals another glance at his commander, and fights the smile that wants to spread his lips. Cody looks disgruntled, the set of his shoulders easily readable to Obi-Wan, after so long. “Come now Cody, where is your sense of adventure?”

“Rex stole it when we were four,” Cody mutters, and Obi-Wan abruptly snorts. 

“Cody, you can’t blame every developmental anomaly on Rex; it really isn’t fair to your other brothers.”

“Ha! Don’t worry about them, sir. Plenty of blame to go around.” Cody’s voice is modulated by his helmet, but Obi-Wan can hear the amusement in his voice.

They walk in silence for a moment, comfortable silence that develops between sentients who trust each other completely, and then Obi-Wan gets a feeling, faint,  _ stop-wait _ and he does. 

“Sir?” Cody says, and comes to stand at his right side. He lifts his blaster and sweeps the way ahead, but there is nothing there. 

“I think,” Obi-Wan says, as he stretches out his senses. “That this might be our best hope for an extraction point.”

Cody taps at him vambrace, and he whistles, low. “I’ve got a signal! It’s faint, but enough to get a homing frequency out.” He taps again and his comm unit lights up, flashing a green light in even intervals. 

Obi-Wan settles upon the floor, crossing his legs and allowing his palms to rest upon his knees. “Then all we have to do is wait.”

He hears Cody settle beside him, and he peaks one eye open to see Cody take his helmet off, though he leaves the light on. His commander then also settles into a meditative stance, albeit a stiff one. While the armor is designed for movement, it is by no means flexible. 

Obi-Wan smiles and lets the comforting prescence of his commander fill his senses. This is familiar, meditating with Cody, and while the setting is different, the peace he achieves is the same.

He is broken out of said peace some time later, when Cody’s mind catches on a train of thought and it distracts Obi-Wan enough to pull him from his light meditation. He opens his eyes and pins Cody with a look. “What is it, my dear?” The endearment falls from his tongue easily, effortlessly, like it always does.

Cody flushes, and Obi-Wan can’t ignore how cute it is when his commander does that. “I was just thinking, sir. Something brothers have said about their generals.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, mentally bracing himself for just about anything to leave Cody’s mouth. “Should I be concerned?”

Cody looks up, and he smirks. “Oh no, nothing like that sir. Just some discussion one their leadership abilities, early on in the war. I don’t know why I was thinking about it.” He lifts a hand and rubs at the back of his neck. “Anyway, I never experience that with you. I guess I’m just curious is all; where did you learn to lead?” Cody drops his hand and fiddles a little with his helmet.  _ Nervous _ , the Force whispers.  _ Nervous-curious-hopeful _ . 

Obi-Wan sighs and lets his hands rest on his knees where they are crossed in front of him. “Ah. Well, it's a rather long story.”

Cody looks up, and gives him a  _ look  _ that Obi-Wan has seen send shinies running. “We’ve got the time, sir.”

Obi-Wan huffs a laugh, though there is little amusing about their situation right now. “Right you are, my dear commander.” He pauses, and lets his thoughts focus.

Obi-Wan does not like to think about his time with the Young. It hurts, in a way that few things do. Qui-gon’s abandonment had  _ ached _ , down to his bones, and he  _ understands _ , Tahl was his  _ soulmate _ , but it still hurts, that he was left behind on a war torn planet, that his Master couldn’t  _ see _ that they needed to stay. He had gone against the will of the council so often, but not for Obi-Wan. Never for Obi-Wan. 

That had been a hard year. Living ration to ration, he and the other Young had lived for every fight, every battle, trying beyond hope to bring some kind of stability to the planet. He had held children, no older than 6, as they bled out before him. He, a 13-year-old ex-padawan, was doing his best to help where he could. Cersei had been a Force-send, and when they lay next to each other after a fight, Obi-Wan could almost pretend that he was back in the Temple, among his crèche mates as they lay under the stars. But the truth was, he hadn’t been. He had been an abandoned Padawan fighting a civil war with children his age or younger, a leader. He had learned to take on the mantle of General there, among the dust and the crippling fear that the next day would be their last, the rage and anger that Obi-Wan knows he is lucky he didn’t succumb to.

“Sir?” Cody says, and it snaps Obi-Wan out of his spiraling thoughts. 

“Sorry, Cody,” Obi-Wan replied, dipping his head, before crossing his arms and pulling at his beard. He will talk about this with Cody, Cody who is  _ safe _ , who probably  _ understands _ in a way the mind healers hadn’t. And besides, Cody wants to hear. And he finds it harder and harder to deny Cody anything, these days.

“When I was 14, my Master and I were called to a planet to settle a dispute that had long held it hostage. The mission went wrong, and my Master’s soulmate was gravely injured. He wanted to take her back to the temple, but I would not go. So he left me.”

“Wait, what? Your master  _ left you? _ ” Cody says, and he is bewildered, Obi-Wan doesn’t need to be Force sensitive to know, he can see it in the set of his Commander’s mouth, the slight pulling of the scar along his face. “Sir, if that’s where you learned to lead, it had to have been more than a  _ dispute.” _

Obi-Wan sighs. “Yes, you’re right. It wasn’t a dispute. It was a Civil War. The Young, who I stayed to help, were fighting against the Old, and this was a battle that had been going on for far too long.”

Cody eyes him, and something darkens in his gaze. “Melida/Daan.”

Obi-Wan is surprised, but he shouldn’t be, he knows. The clones received an excellent military education, Cody more so than most. Of course his Commander knows of the conflict, was able to guess it from a few details. “Yes.”

“But sir!” Cody says, and his eyes are dark, a pool at night, a river stone at the bottom of the sea in the dim light of the cave, lit only by Obi-Wan’s lightsaber and Cody’s helmet light. “14 isn’t old enough for a nat born. You were a child!”

Obi-Wan shrugs, and he aches for a moment at the reminder of how young the clones are, if not in spirit and wisdom, then in years. “We all were.”

Cody seems to deflate at that, and he settles against the wall they are leaned up against, a pensive expression on his face. And then, he reaches out and places a hand on Obi-Wan’s knee. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It is in the past now,” Obi-Wan says after a moment, relishing the contact his commander has initiated, and he knows that is a hollow thing to say, but he had tried to move on. He shakes himself, and lays his own hand over the one Cody has on his knee, and he squeezes it briefly. “But thank you for the sentiment, anyway.”

Cody has helped, for all that they are in a war of their own now; has slowly been writing over the bad memories Obi-Wan has with blasters, with violence. Now, instead of Cersei, a blaster reminds him of Cody, and Cody’s arms around his as he corrects his form. It doesn’t feel like forgetting; rather, it feels like moving on, like  _ living _ . And while it is not very Jedi of him, fighting with Cody is like moving meditation for him.

Cody squeezes back, before  _ something _ flits across his face, too fast for Obi-Wan to name, and he pulls his hand back. Obi-Wan lets him, and tries not to mourn the loss of contact. He isn’t very successful. “I got quite a collection of scars from it,” Obi-Wan says, attempting to lighten the mood. “Here, let me—“ he carefully unclips his own vambrace and rolls up his sleeve. “Slug shot,” he gestures to a faded mark on his bicep. “Another slug shot,” he turns his arm to reveal the outside of his forearm. 

Cody leans in, and gently prods at the faded mark on his elbow. “I had wondered. I’ve seen these sparring."  


Obi-Wan’s skin seems to light up when Cody has touched it, the normally muted feeling he gets in his scar tissue zinging from the contact. Obi-Wan dutifully pushes aside the mental image of Cody’s lips pressed against the marks, mentally cursing himself for creating this situation. But he doesn’t pull back as Cody pokes at the other mark on his forearm, gentle, always gentle. 

Obi-Wan has had little luck with happiness like this in the past. He doesn’t dare hope now, will not offer himself to Cody first, no matter how much he wishes to. Cody and his brothers have so little autonomy to begin with; he will not force anything with his Commander.

Anything else that might be said is interrupted but a shower of dirt raining down on them, and they both leap to their feet, Cody shoving his helmet on as light filters through the ceiling above them. Obi-Wan hastily pulls his sleeve back down and reattaches his vambrace. 

“We found them!” Someone shouts, and then Wooley is descending on a line of rope, pauldrons flashing in the pale light of this planet's sun. 

“Good to see you, sirs.”

“Likewise,” Obi-Wan says, and he smiles. “Thank you for the assist. Though I don’t think we’ll need the rope.”

“What—“ Cody says, but Obi-Wan has already given into the impulse to hold him close, and he gathers the Force around him, jumping from the tunnel system to land in a practiced arc on solid ground. Obi-Wan can feel Cody’s amusement, over the spike of alarm at being moved so quickly, and he ignores that fact that Cody seems to fit at his side, with Obi-Wan’s arm around his hip, like he belongs there.

“Jedi  _ oisk _ ,” Cody mutters, and Obi-Wan winks at him. 

“Of course, Cody. I am a jedi, after all.” 

He can practically  _ feel _ Cody’s eye roll from here, despite the helmet. 

“That you are, sir.”

—

  
  


“Cody. Cody!  _ Cody. _ ” 

Cody turns and is greeted by an armful of 501st blue and white, and a pair of  _ jaig _ eyes painted with care. Cody smiles and pulls his  _ vod’ika _ into a hug. They haven't seen each other besides the off-glace from holocalls in the war room in what feels like ages, and Cody is happy that the 501st is working with the 212th again. 

“How have you been?” Cody asks, pushing Rex away from him with a smile he can’t keep off his face. 

Rex pulls off his helmet and spreads his arms. “What can I say,  _ vod _ . Haven’t died yet.” 

Cody scoffs and shoves his  _ vod’ika _ . “Let’s keep it that way.” 

Rex is going to reply, but then there is a bouncing togrutan in front of them, skin a darker orange than the 212th’s paint, but the markings on her montrals are  _ 501st _ and Cody smiles and snaps to attention. “Commander” 

Tano smiles right back. “Commander!” It’s become a bit of a joke between them, especially since his General ( _ Obi-Wan _ ) and Skywalker work together often.

She hasn’t grown much since Cody last saw her, but then, maybe he’s just used to brothers. Her eyes are still bright though, and the sight of her youthful energy melts something in his chest. Cody glances over Tano’s shoulder and sees his General and Skywalker walking over, Skywalker gesturing wildly about something that has Kenobi concealing a grin. Cody feels a spark at the sight; his general should always be smiling, and he is glad when he sees his General’s lips stretched in mirth.

“Commander, Captain,” Obi-Wan greets them both, and Skywalker slings an arm around his padawan, who huffs but allows it. “Shall we bring this to the bridge?”

“Of course, sir,” Cody says, glibly. Rex shoots him a smile before replacing his bucket, and they all make their way to the  _ Negotiator’s  _ command center. 

The battle plays out routine, like it should. Minimal casualties, minimal need for advanced oversight. After the battle where Cody had gotten his scar, and countless other battles where things had just  _ gone wrong _ , Obi-Wan has been wary of any information he can’t personally trace the source to, and Cody appreciates that. They clear the planet, a mining outpost in the Mid-Rim, easily enough, and afterwards, the 501st and 212th mingle together, celebrating a job well done. 

Rex comes up to him after, eyes shining and full of victory. “ _ Vod _ , I want to tell you something.”

Cody takes off his bucket and tucks it under his arm as he follows Rex out of the camp. They come to a stop near a small lake, and despite the fighting, the water is strangely clear. 

“What is it, Rex?” Cody asks, and he sits on the pebbled shore. Rex settles beside him, placing his helmet at his side. 

“I found my  _ run’iriduur _ ,  _ Kote _ ,” he says, and Cody doesn’t know what he expected Rex to say, but it wasn’t  _ that _ . 

“What?” he says, and Rex leans in, amber eyes almost glowing with excitement. 

“Who is it?” 

“Commander Tano,” Rex says softly, and Cody’s heart stops, just a little. 

“ _ What? _ ” 

Rex looks a little taken back, but he smiles. “Platonic. We’re platonic. She’s only an _ ad _ . And besides,” he pauses, and a weight settles around him that Cody knows is the weight of command. “There are more important things to worry about.”

Cody breathes a sigh of relief, and something oddly similar to  _ hope _ blossoms in his heart. “How’d you find out?” 

Rex shrugs and settles on his forearms, leaning back as he sprawls on the beach. “It was only a little while ago. We were just having a laugh. Actually,” he pauses, and he smiles like he can’t help himself. “We were making fun of some senators. They were just so hoighty-toighty, with their expensive jewelry, and fancy clothes. You know how they can be. And she, well, she kissed my knuckles, you know,” he gestures, “like they do, and that scar, you know the one, from when I bet with Ponds that I could break that piece of wood in half? It just  _ disappeared _ . And I got this feeling, like something just  _ clicked _ , and then she sneezed and we laughed about it.”

Cody can’t help but feel happy for his  _ vod’ika,  _ for Force’s sake he found his  _ soulmate!  _ But his heart is still pounding, just a little, years of kamino rhetoric trying to thunder through his veins, same as it did when Fox showed them all his blank wrist. “Does General Skywalker know?” 

Rex’s face falls a little, at that, and he shakes his head. “Not yet. It just, it hasn’t come up.” 

A silence falls between them, a little strained, but familiar, and only broken by the soft lap of the water against the shore. Cody shakes himself and leans over, pulling Rex close enough to press their foreheads together, and tries to ignore the hope that is building and building in his heart. If his  _ vod’ika _ has a _ jetti run’iruidurr _ , could he? “I’m happy for you, Rex’ika. Really. Just, be careful.” 

_ “Oya” _

—

Obi-Wan is following the steady prescience of his commander as he walks through the ship. He wasn’t in his quarters, and Obi-Wan wasn’t feeling in the mood to be alone. So it is a relief to him to see that his wanderings have taken him to the rec room, where there are always bright lights to drive away any dark thoughts. He is feeling particularly melancholy tonight, especially after his holocall with Anakin, and with the campaign coming up. His old padawan was obviously somewhere else, despite the upcoming battle, and Obi-Wan just knows that Anakin had probably just gotten off a call with Padme. Obi-Wan doesn’t like to admit to it, but the fact that Anakin doesn’t want him in that part of his life aches like a particularly stubborn bruise. And besides, with the  _ second _ attack on Geonosis about to begin, he has better things to worry about. 

The door to the rec room opens, and the sheer  _ life _ that resonates from the troopers inside makes Obi-Wan smile. Tonight, the atmosphere seems particularly joyful, despite the upcoming battle, and Obi-Wan’s spirits are immediately lifted when he spots Cody sitting on one of the couches near the side, a data pad in hand and a cup of caf sitting beside him. The Jedi tries to ignore how much even  _ seeing _ Cody can make him feel better, and he begins to make his way towards his commander.

On the other side of the room, near the long range communicator, a group of troopers are huddled, and Obi-Wan wonders briefly what they are doing.

“This is my batch mate Nixer,” the trooper closest to the holotable, an almost shiny Obi-Wan thinks is Buck, says, and he can just see as the blue form of a twi’lek woman nods her head. “And these are my squad mates!”

Obi-Wan settles besides Cody, who has yet to notice him, and Obi-Wan smiles, feeling only the slightest bit mischievous as he says. “What’s happening over there?” 

Cody doesn’t startle, but only just, and Obi-Wan can feel his disgruntlement in the Force, though it quickly smooths over into something calmer when Cody recognizes Obi-Wan. “I think someone’s soulmate is on the line. Getting introduced to the rest of the squad.”

“Oh?”  _ Oh _ , that would explain the  _ excitement-apprehension-happiness _ that the room is steeped in. Abruptly, he wonders how they met, and where. He wonders if they’ll get to meet again, in person. He focuses on Cody again, who raises an eyebrow. 

“They won’t give away any GAR secrets. It’s just a holocall.”

Obi-Wan is abruptly startled, that isn’t what he meant at  _ all _ , and rushes to explain his reaction. “Cody, that isn’t what I meant. Apologies. I just wasn’t aware that some of the men were so fortunate!”

Inwardly, he cringes at his somewhat stilted explanation. And people call him the Negotiator.

“Oh, I know, sir. I was only teasing.”

Obi-Wan freezes for a moment, because now that he is  _ paying attention _ , Cody has a bemused smirk on his face, and Obi-Wan abruptly chuckles as he moves to set his tea aside. “Ah, right. Of course, Cody.” Under his commander’s gaze, he flushes, but goes to open the flimsi book he brought. 

Cody hums and goes back to his report, and Obi-Wan takes a brief moment to bask in his commander’s presence. It is something he has grown used to, this steadiness he feels every time Cody spars with him, or stands beside him, or sits next to him, and it is something that he doesn’t want to contemplate losing. He opens the book, but his concentration simply can’t be brought to the pages. He risks a glance at the group surrounding the holotable, who are now laughing while Buck buries his face in his hands and the twi’lek on the call has her mouth covered by her hand. His focus once more falls upon his commander, who appears to be completely dedicated to the report on his ‘pad, and Obi-Wan is struck by the simple beauty Cody seems to just project with every movement. Even now, just sitting here, Obi-Wan finds his eyes drawn to the way the light of the data pad shines in his commander’s eyes, and how the strength of his hands are well suited to going over reports, suited to things other than combat. Abruptly, Obi-Wan feels the melancholy thread of his thoughts return, and he shakes himself, closing his book again and turning to his commander. 

“What about you, Cody? Any luck on finding your soulmate?”

Cody looks up then, and Obi-Wan immediately feels trepidation. From what he has seen of the clones, they are not adverse to speaking about soulmates. But perhaps Cody doesn’t want to talk about such things, he knows it can be very personal and—

“Less than some, average for most,” Cody responds, interrupting Obi-Wan’s spiraling thoughts, and he sets the data pad aside. “Mostly just happy to still be alive.”

Obi-Wan smiles and places his hand on Cody’s forearm, and oh, he shouldn’t, but Cody would shake him off if he minded, right? “As am I.”  _ As am I. _

He removes his hand, inwardly reluctant to do so, and settles more comfortably on the couch. “So, average for most? What does that mean?”

To his surprise ( _ and delight _ ) Cody flushes and looks away. “Ah, well, you know. A general idea, some fantasies. The usual, I guess.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and tries to ignore the little niggle of jealousy that springs up. He is a jedi  _ master _ , for Force’s sake. Not some tween. “A general idea?” He teases, letting none of his internal thoughts show. 

Cody manages to flush even harder at that, and  _ oh _ , there must be something more than just a  _ general idea _ if that is how Cody reacts.  _ Could it be me? _ His traitorous thoughts supply, and Obi-Wan tries to squish them. He will not put Cody in that position; he is Cody’s superior officer, at least in name if not function. He will not force Cody into anything, he cares for him too much. And besides, Cody would have already approached him if that was what he thought, right?

“A general idea, yes sir.” Cody pauses, and he sets his datapad aside. He looks like he is going to say something, but then a raucous cheer goes up from the group around the holotable as Buck’s squad mates lift him up on their shoulders. 

“Hey’ya, Buck,” one of them shouts, “You’ve snagged quite the girl, ya bugger!” 

Obi-Wan watches them leave the rec room and has to sharpen his shields before he becomes  _ drunk  _ on their giddy happiness, and it warms his heart to see the men so excited. He tries to focus on the now for the moment, because if he doesn’t then images of that young twi’lek crying over holocall after being told her soulmate was killed in action will fill his mind, and ah, his gloomy thoughts have returned.

Silence, or as much as a rec room can be silent, falls, and then Cody clears his throat. “Sir, are you ok? If it's about the upcoming campaign, you know that we’ll do the best we can. It’s all we can do.”

Obi-Wan sighs and brings a hand up to tug at his beard. He should have known that Cody would pick up on his mood. He always does. “No, not the campaign, though it certainly doesn’t help matters. Rough morning cycle, I’m afraid. I just got off a call with Anakin and, well, it was obvious that his mind was on a certain senator. And yet he will not tell me so.” He tries to ignore the throb his heart gives when he thinks about it. “It’s really just put me in a bit of a mood. And Buck over there,” he gestures, but the squad has already left. “I can’t guarantee his survival, but I am responsible for him. Will I be the one to tell that twi’lek that the other half of her soul is gone?” He looks over to Cody and, dear Force, he will not let himself cry over the unfairness of it all. Not here in public, in front of the men.

Cody lays a hand on his knee and his eyes are earnest, but there is sorrow there, a kind of sorrow Obi-Wan is becoming more and more familiar with. “You can’t carry the entire weight of the universe, sir. No matter how hard you try to.” Obi-Wan’s throat abruptly thickens, and he looks away as Cody continues. “We clones know the risk, better than anyone. And I know most agree that it’s better to grab what happiness you can and hold on as tight as you can, for however long you can. And yeah, sometimes it hurts to think about, but it’s better to hurt then not feel at all.” He pauses, and takes a breath. “We have a war to win, and I know that every trooper out there would sacrifice themselves for a cause that will make the galaxy a better place. A safer place, for those we love.” Obi-Wan meets Cody’s gaze again, and his commander’s eyes burn with an inner strength. “The best we can do is honor them; whatever comes, this war won’t last forever.”

Obi-Wan abruptly chuckles, and he ignores how bitter it sounds. He grabs Cody’s hand in his own and clasps it firmly, a grounding weight against. “And here I thought I was one for speeches.” He pauses, and just lets his commander’s words wash over him. He is a Jedi, and he knows that all beings eventually become one with the Force. Some Jedi say do not mourn, but in his experience, that is a sure fire way to let darkness fester in the heart. Better to mourn and move on than pretend there are no feelings at all. He looks down at their hands, and he abruptly realizes that they are still in the rec room, in public. But then, the men know the comfort to be had from friends, right? He decides he won’t pull his hand away, and he meets Cody’s gaze again. “Thank you, Cody.”

His commander smiles, and Obi-Wan is blown away, as he always is, by how bright it is. “Remember that you’re not alone, Obi-Wan.” 

_ Obi-Wan _ . The Jedi blinks, but he smiles. This is the first time Cody has called him by name outside the comfort of their respective quarters. He can’t ignore the thrill that that gives him. 

Cody looks like he is gearing up to say something else, but then ship shudders, just slightly, and the ship intercom crackles briefly.  _ “We’ve just entered real-space and are positioned above Geonosis as ordered.” _

Obi-Wan sighs and stands, letting Cody’s hand fall from his. He does not want to fight on Geonosis, but war waits for no man.

Cody follows suit, and they both walk to Cody’s quarters so he can grab the rest of his armor before they head to the command deck. Obi-Wan stands in the doorway, patient, until Cody, chest plate in hand, looks up and actually  _ blushes _ . “Would you mind helping? It goes faster with two.”

Obi-Wan blinks, surprised, and oddly, he feels rather shy all of the sudden, but walks further into the room. “Of course!” He takes each piece of armor that Cody hands him and helps set it to his blacks, the magnetic clasps making little  _ clicks _ as they attach.

Obi-Wan knows that the clones have ideas similar to Mandolorians in regards to their armor. Does Cody know the significance of inviting one not of your close family to help with armor? Despite himself, hope begins to fill the hollow in his chest. Maybe after the battle, he can ask. He knows that they have a connection, little gods, he knows; is this Cody acknowledging that?

He doesn’t ask as they walk to the command deck to meet up with Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex, who presumably just docked. This is something that shouldn’t be discussed right before a battle, especially one on this planet. Obi-Wan has enough in his head to fight through already. Dooku’s betrayal, the gladiator arena. Geonosis was the first battle, the start of it all. He never would have thought they’d have to fight here again, but perhaps he should have known.

Cody goes on ahead of Obi-Wan once the battle has been planned out, to warm up the gunships and get everyone ready. Obi-Wan is humble enough to admit that Cody is much better at the day-to-day leadings of the 212th and their half of the Open Circle Fleet than he is.

“We’re all ready to go, sir,” Cody says as he enters the hanger. “That’s your ship over there. You’ll be with Droplet. Good a pilot as you can ask for.”

Obi-Wan salutes the clone in question who, complimentary to his name, has tattoos of water droplets all over his shaved head. He turns back to Cody, who is standing at attention. Obi-Wan wishes he and Cody could go down together, but the nature of this landing strategy demands that the CO’s of the 212th not be in the same ship; should something happen, it would be a critical blow to the Republic to lose both Cody and himself. He can tell that Cody is also reluctant, but he has the important ( _ and dangerous _ ) job of setting up the landing point. 

  
  


“I wasn't there for the first Battle of Geonosis,” Cody says after a moment. A squad of troopers march past and Obi-Wan smiles as he steps aboard his gunship. 

“Well, you didn’t miss much. Last time, I was chained to a pole and attacked by several humongous monsters.” 

Cody lets his exasperation seep into the Force as he shakes his head, and this pre-battle banter is  _ easy _ to fall into. “That sounds...entertaining.”

The gunship’s engines fire up, and Obi-Wan grabs at one of the hand holds as he smirks. “It was, for the Geonosians.”

Cody laughs at that, and Obi-Wan treasures the sound. “See you down there, sir.” 

“Not if I see you first,” Obi-Wan says, and then the doors close. He looks around at the men he’s with and smiles. “Nice to see you, Spectre Squad.”

“General, sir.” Lieutenant Tip responds. “Ready for this?”

Obi-Wan bares his teeth in the semblance of a smile as he thinks of what they are going into. “Always, Lieutenant.”

—

Little gods, this is a shitshow. Cody’s ship barely manages to make it to the landing point, and only about half of the ships that were supposed to land with him make it. As soon as he gets his bearings he comms Obi-Wan, heart in his throat. 

“General Kenobi, don’t land! The zone is hot! I repeat, don’t land!” 

“ _ But there’s nowhere else to go _ ,” Obi-Wan responds, and oh Force, oh  _ Force _ , Cody turns and looks to watch the gunships coming in, and he watches as three are hit in quick succession by the ground cannons and then his comm crackles: “ _ We’re hit, we’re going down!” _

The ships crash past the landing zone, trailing smoke as they go, and oh  _ gods _ , Cody prays to any being that is out there that Obi-Wan isn’t dead. Not now, not when he’s just plucked up his courage. It was only a few hours ago that Obi-Wan had helped him into his armor, Obi-Wan who knows Mando’a and Mandolorian customs, and  _ oh Force, please don’t be dead _ .

“Sir, what do we do?” Wooley asks, running to stand at his side. Cody wrenches his heart into a box, ties it up neat and tidy because he has to  _ focus  _ or none of them are making it out of this alive. He turns to his ARC trooper. “Follow the plan, get those tanks in as defensive a line as we can and try to hold the line.”

“The General…” Wooley says, and Cody grimaces. 

“I know. Go find Waxer, and Boil if they made it.” They are his best scouts, some of his best men, if anyone can go get Obi-Wan, it's them.

“Yes sir!” Wooley snaps a salute and runs off. 

Cody keeps everything under wraps, shouting orders to those who made it. Fire is coming heavily from the Geonosian forces, and he abruptly hates this dust ball of a planet. 

“Boil, reporting as ordered, sir!” 

“Waxer, reporting as ordered, sir!” 

Cody turns and finds his two scouts standing at attention. “Good, Waxer, Boil, we’ve got downed gunships ‘bout five clicks east. We think General Kenobi’s in one of them.”

The two share a look, despite the buckets on their heads, and Cody wonders if they can actually read each other’s minds like the old stories claim  _ run’iruduurs  _ can. He would believe it, from all that he’s seen. 

“I need you to get out there and check for survivors. You’re the best scouts I have.” Cody steps into their space, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Go find him.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” They shout in tandem, and Cody takes a deep breath. 

“We’ll try and lay some cover fire down. Good luck.” 

They salute and run towards the defensive line that has been set up. Cody motions to the gunners, and as Waxer and Boil dart into the open, heavy artillery rains down ahead of them, clearing the way.

Now all Cody can do is wait, and pray. His heart had felt like it was breaking when Ponds died, would he make it if he lost Obi-Wan? He can feel his shields cracking, and he represses the urge to jump out there with his scouts. He needs to be here, otherwise why did he and Obi-Wan even take different gunships?

“ _ Cody, Cody come in, it’s Rex _ .” 

Cody ducks behind cover and slams his comm. “What!?”

“ _ Are you in a position to send reinforcements? We’re down to a squad. _ ”

Sith karking hells. “No,” he responds, and then ducks as a shot glances off the side of the walker leg he is crouched behind. “We’ve sustained heavy casualties, and General Kenobi’s ship was shot down. We’re barely holding position.” Another shot glances by and Cody snarls, leaning around the metal of the gunship and releasing a barrage of shots into the Geonosian line. He settles again as return fire goes past him. “Sorry, Rex.” 

“ _ It’s ok. Just stay alive. _ ” The comm shuts off and Cody chuckles darkly.  _ Well, when you put it like that, it sounds easy enough _ , he thinks.

It feels like hours later, but a line trooper reports movement, and Cody grabs his scope, zooming in on the gunships. Immediately, it feels like the bottom of his stomach has dropped out, because Waxer’s got Kenobi on a shoulder and Boil has a trooper on the other.  _ Two, out of three gunships _ , Cody thinks, and suppresses the shudder of horror that rolls through him. 

“AT-TE 636!” Cody shouts. “Lay down cover fire at point three-five!” The heavy cannon starts blazing again and Cody watches as they run across the open field, and he can’t breathe right until they make it to the shadow of the gunships’ wings. 

“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, as he is laid down against a stack of boxes. Cody resists the urge to wrap the man up in a hug, instead crouching at his side.

“Are you injured?” Cody asks, but he saw the way Obi-Wan was holding his ribs, and the limp. Little gods, thank the Force for Waxer and Boil. If they make it out of here alive, he’s gonna make them ARC troopers. 

“Nothing too serious,” his General says, and Cody doesn’t trust  _ that _ as far as he can throw it, but he lets it slide for now. 

“What’s the situation here?” Obi-Wan asks, and Cody sighs, and he wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. 

“No air cover, two generals down beyond our position, and a mess of bugs surrounding us.” He lets Obi-Wan process that, before he squeezes his eyes shut. “The enemy was more than prepared for our attack, sir. They knew our every move.”

The holes in their intel are losing countless lives, costing campaigns. Cody grits his teeth and raises his head. They will have to deal with that  _ after _ . “What are your orders, sir?”

Obi-Wan shifts, and he suppresses a groan before he shakes his head. “I’m sure General Skywalker and General Munda will make it to our position.” He looks up, past Cody, to study the defensive line. “We just have to make sure we’re still here when they arrive.”

Cody was afraid of that, but what else can they do? He nods. “I’ll do what I can. Stay here; let medical look you over.”

Obi-Wan nods sharply, and Cody reluctantly stands as Stitches comes over, medical bag in hand. His General is right, if they can’t hold this position, then all these casualties will have been for nothing. 

_ Marching far away _ , he thinks, and gets to the front. He wonder’s briefly, if Buck is still alive. He remembers the look on his General’s face, in the rec room, and decides that if he isn’t, Cody will handle the twi’lek, if only to keep that look  _ off _ Obi-Wan’s face. But he can’t think about that right now. He yanks his focus back into battle and surveys the no-man’s land currently separating them and the Geonosians. The fact that the bugs can fly is complicating things, and there are only two operational tanks. 

The fighting falls into a blur for Cody; aim, fire, asses, repeat. Brother’s are dying around him, their blood mixing with the sand and transforming it into a quagmire of sticky, disgusting goop. The bugs are getting closer, and Cody is doing his best, but the enemy  _ knew  _ they were coming, this is a repeat of at least four other major campaigns, only this time, Obi-Wan is injured and their forces are a shrinking pocket of security in the middle of a hellscape.

“Come on, give it everything you got!” Cody shouts, and  _ little gods _ , are they going to die here? “Make every shot count!” 

The bugs are getting close, they’re rushing the front lines and Cody falls back towards Obi-Wan, who is standing, a grim look on his face as he ignites his saber. If they are going to die, Cody is making damn well sure they die together. 

But then - “Reinforcements! The Reinforcements are here!” and the roar of A-wings, like the sound of salvation, echoes over their defensive line. The Geonosians go up in a wall of fire and smoke, and the men cheer as 501st blue suddenly swarms the landing point. 

Beside him, Obi-Wan sighs and gently sits back down, cradling his ribs. Cody helps him, careful to lower him as slowly as he can, and then General Skywalker is there with Commander Tano, Rex right behind them. Cody’s heart soars at the sight of is  _ vod’ika _ alive and apparently unharmed. 

“Master Kenobi!” Tano shouts, crouching down at Obi-Wan’s other side, laying an arm on his General’s shoulder. 

Skywalker crosses his arms, and Cody notes that he is tense, and there is a wild look in his eyes, a combination of battle fever and adrenaline. “What happened to you?” 

Obi-Wan chuckles, but immediately grimaces as the motion jars his ribs, and oh boy, he is going  _ straight _ into a bacta tank as soon as they are ship side. “I could ask the same of you.” 

The two Generals bicker and Cody spares a glance towards Rex. His little brother is standing close to Tano, and she unconsciously leans towards him as Obi-Wan and Skywalker hash out a plan. Cody focuses back in on the conversation, and Obi-Wan pierces him with a look. 

“Cody, you should accompany Anakin and Mundi’s forces to the shields. Take what troops you can; we’ll hold out here with the wounded.”

Oh, Cody doesn’t like that plan, if he takes enough able-bodied men with him to make a difference, there will be none left to protect the wounded, to protect  _ Obi-Wan _ . “General -“

“We’ll be alright, Cody,” Obi-Wan says, “Go. That’s an order.”

Cody grimaces, but he nods. He’s not going to press this in the presence of Skywalker and Tano. “Yes, sir.”

Rex gives him a sympathetic look, which Cody ignores. Everyone exchanges power packs for their blasters and grabs what munitions they can, and then follow General Skywalker out into the open in squads. There are perhaps forty men in total. Out of three battalions.

“Heard it got pretty hot there.” Rex says as he falls in line beside him, and Cody grunts. 

“All in a day's work.”

Rex chuckles darkly, and Cody knocks their shoulders together as they walk. And then they come up on the target, and it's all business. 

They get the job done, they blow up the shield generator with little problem, but all Cody can think of is his General, and the rest of his men, out in the open with nothing but some broken AT-TE’s and downed gunships standing between them and the bugs. But they get back to the landing point and everyone is still there. 

“Success?” Obi-Wan asks, and he is pale, freckles standing out like splatters of blood on his face and neck. He smiles, and there is blood on his teeth. 

Cody kneels down next to him, ignoring the way his heart aches at the sight of his General, downed and injured. “We got it done, sir. Anything exciting happen while we were gone?”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes briefly, and Cody is afraid that he has just passed out. But he just takes a deep breath and opens them again, and his gaze is tired, filled with barely repressed pain. “No, nothing.”

General Skywalker kneels on his other side and slings Obi-Wan’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on, old man, let's get you to the gunship.”

Cody follows them to the gunship, where Mundi is waiting, also cradling his ribs. Cody shares a glance with Jet, who just shakes his head in a _what-can-you-do_ motion. Cody rolls his eyes and follows Kenobi onto the gunship. The generals are bantering, but Cody tunes them out, especially when he hears kill counts being thrown around. He can appreciate a little friendly competition, but right now, he doesn’t want to hear it; not when they lost so many and he came _so_ _close_ to losing Obi-Wan. 

The gunship takes off, and Cody slips a shoulder under Obi-Wan’s arm. “I’ve got him, General Mundi, you can sit down.”

Obi-Wan spares him a glance that is two parts adoration, one part exasperation, and Cody does  _ not _ blush as he settles him more firmly against him. “I’m glad you’re alright, sir,” he says quietly, and Obi-Wan’s grips tightens slightly in response. 

They say nothing else until they land aboard the  _ Negotiator _ , and Cody helps Obi-Wan to medical, Jet helping Mundi along behind them. Helix takes one look at them when they enter and immediately starts ordering his officers about, and they prepare the bacta tanks for the High Generals. 

Cody gently helps Obi-Wan out of his armor ( _ not that he wears any _ ), careful to note whenever Obi-Wan’s breath sharpens. Cody doesn’t miss that they are basically in a reverse position to what they were this morning, and he fights the blush that wants to flood his face at the thought. As soon as Obi-Wan’s armor is set aside, Cody takes off his helmet and helps Obi-Wan out of his many, many layers. He ignores gutter thoughts, which is pretty easy to do when he spots his General’s ribs. They are a mass of black and purple, and something about his rib cage just looks  _ off _ . 

_ “Haar’chak,” _ Cody mutters, and Obi-Wan’s breath stutters as he tries to stand straighter when Helix walks in. 

“Not as bad as it looks,” the di’kut says, and Cody just raises an eyebrow at him. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Helix says, and gestures for them to follow. Cody supports his general, now only in his smalls, as they follow the CMO to the row of bacta tubes. 

“Begin sequence,” Helix says, and he gestures to the bed. “Set him here, please.”

Cody does so, and ignores how his heart  _ pangs _ at every huffy breath of pain Obi-Wan lets slip through his teeth. He steps back to let the medics do their work, but before he does, Obi-Wan grabs his hand. 

“Thank you,” he says, and his eyes are so earnest, though they are pain-drunk and oddly bright. Cody swallows against the thickness in his throat and he wraps both hands around Obi-Wan’s 

“Of course, sir.” 

Obi-Wan nods at that, and then Helix places a mask over his mouth. Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter as he is put under, and his grip slackens in Cody’s. Cody gently tucks it against his general’s side and steps back as the medics straps him up and lower him into the tank. 

“Alright, you’re next,” Helix says, and Cody shoots his CMO a glance. 

“I don’t need bacta,” he says, confused. 

Helix rolls his eyes. “Not bacta. I need to check you over.” 

“Oh,” Cody says, and he rubs at his eyes, which he acknowledges are aching now that Obi-Wan is safe. “I’m alright. Just tired.”

Helix raises an eyebrow. “All the same - you let me look you over, and I’ll get a chair in here for you.” 

Cody feels heat rise in his face, but he glances at Obi-Wan, suspended in bacta, and he nods. “Ok.” Now that he lets himself think about it, his muscles ache, in some places down to the bone. He doesn’t look forward to tomorrow morning. 

He strips from his armor, conscious of how much easier it would be if Obi-Wan helped him, and lets Helix poke and prod at him. Helix seems satisfied after a moment, and only places two bacta patches on him, one across his shoulders and one along his right arm. 

“Just to stave off some of the worst of the fatigue,” Helix explains. “You pulled a few muscles; this will make sure you can move tomorrow.” 

Cody nods, and a junior medic steps in with a chair. Cody takes it from him and settles in front of his General, fingers steepled as he leans back. He hears Helix sigh, and his CMO places a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t stay up to long.” 

Cody nods, and he can’t help but look back up at Obi-Wan. “How bad?” 

Helix sighs and suddenly is in a chair besides him. “Do you really want to know?”

Cody nods, and Helix runs a hand through his hair. “Several cracked ribs, a punctured lung, and a torn ACL. The lungs would have been a problem. If he wasn’t a Jedi, he would have died hours after the crash.”

Cody nods, and bows his head, taking in a deep breath. Obi-Wan is fine, he’s in bacta, he’s  _ okay _ , but it still hurts to think that he left him alone at the drop sight. If anything had happened…

Helix knocks shoulders with him, and Cody glances up. “Don’t worry so much,” Helix says, and his tone is oddly soft. “He is a Jedi, and he’s alright now.”

Cody quirks a tired smile, and lets his brother’s words wash over him. Obi-Wan is safe,  _ safe _ , and with that realization, he feels exhaustion hit him like a starship. “Thank you, Helix.” 

Helix pats his shoulder and leaves them. Cody studies Obi-Wan as he floats, and lets the sight of him  _ alright _ calm his nerves. He had almost lost his General, almost lost any chance they might have. Cody nods to himself, and settles more comfortably in the chair. He can’t wait any longer. Every day, one or both of them could die. If that happened before Cody made sure, he doesn’t know if he would cope. 

—

Obi-Wan wakes up and is astounded by how much better he feels. He can breathe and there is no feeling at all, just his lungs drawing air, in and out. Internal injuries are always tricky, and it is amazing how quickly you can forget a time when everything doesn’t hurt. But the bacta has done its job, and while he absolutely detests the feeling he gets after every dip in the back of his sinuses, slimy and slightly pressurized, he can appreciate bacta for the miracle that it is. 

“Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan looks over and his heart warms to see Cody sitting beside him in his blacks, hands in his lap and eyes dark. He looks tired, but not overly so. Obi-Wan thinks he has gotten at least a little sleep since the battle. 

“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, and he reaches out a hand. Cody takes it, and Obi-Wan sighs at the contact. “Still in one piece, I see.”

Cody huffs a laugh, before he ducks his head. “I wasn’t the one who got shot out of the sky.” 

Obi-Wan shudders at the reminder, and doesn’t think about waking up in that transport, feeling it as, one by one, the few survivors passed into the Force, until only he and Trapper were left. Tip had passed only minutes before Waxer and Boil had found them.

Obi-Wan abruptly sits up. “Is Trapper alright?” He remembers hazily, that Trapper made it to the medics after Waxer and Boil found them, but after that, it is a haze of  _ alert-danger-pain-watchout _ . 

“Trapper’s alright,” Cody says, and he lays a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, gently pushing him back down. “They got him in bacta as soon as he made it ship side. He wasn’t that far behind you.” 

Obi-Wan sighs and lets Cody push him back down. “Good, that’s, that's good.”

Cody nods, and he is still holding Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan makes no move to pull away. 

“Helix says that if you feel alright, you can go to your quarters, as long as you rest.” Cody says after a moment, and Obi-Wan likes the sound of rest. 

“That sounds like agreeable terms,” Obi-Wan says, and Cody rolls his eyes and  _ honestly _ , he’s been spending too much time around Commander Wolffe. 

“Let’s get you up then.” 

Cody helps him sit up, and then steadies him when he stands, vision blacking out only briefly. Bacta is miraculous, but it is draining. Obi-Wan leans on Cody heavily, a tiredness present in his limbs that is almost always there after a bacta dip, and Cody walks him out of the med bay with only a cursory wave at one of the junior medical officers. Obi-Wan sneaks a glance at his commander as they walk, and once more can only think  _ beautiful.  _ He remembers helping Cody into his armor, before the battle, and is abruptly nervous. He wanted to talk to Cody about it, but now that the moment is here, he finds he is content to just lean on Cody as they make their way to his quarters. 

Cody opens the door, typing Obi-Wan’s code into the keypad, and the door opens. The familiar sight of his quarters eases something in Obi-Wan, and he sits on his bed with no resistance when Cody gently sets him down there. Abruptly, butterflies erupt in his stomach, and if he was still injured, he’d probably throw up. But he’s not, so he doesn’t. Instead, he looks up at Cody through his lashes. Cody looks tired, and stressed, and Obi-Wan wants to smooth away the furrows in his brow. “Are you alright, Cody?” He says instead, because that is safer. 

Cody sighs, and he settles on the bed beside him. “Honestly? I don’t know. I, when I saw your gunship go down, I -” he cuts off, and Obi-Wan will wait forever for Cody. 

Cody seems to steal himself for something, and the butterflies flutter harder. Maybe he will throw up, after all. 

“It scared me.” Cody whispers, and Obi-Wan’s heart lurches at this confession. 

“Cody -” Obi-Wan says, but Cody looks up sharply. 

“No, wait, let me finish. It scared me because the thought of you dying, when I haven’t even - kark, this is hard.” Cody wan pinches the bridge of his nose, before he takes a fortifying breath. In one smooth motion, he is on his knees in front of Obi-Wan, and  _ sweet Force _ , what is he  _ doing? _

Cody rolls up the sleeves of his blacks and offers his left hand forward. Obi-Wan studies his face, the familiar curve of his jaw and curl of his scar. “Cody,” he says, voice timid to his ears. Cody meets his gaze and shakes his offered arm. 

Obi-Wan looks down and his soul staggers, because there, on Cody’s wrist, is a spiraling sun, one that has been carved into his skin with care. The lightened skin is raised, and stands against the rest of Cody’s skin in a high contrast. Obi-Wan has seen this once before; Sating had offered the delicate underside of her wrist to him, before their conflicting ideals and duty had pushed them away from each other. He briefly wonders how he has never noticed it before. But then, Cody always trains in his blacks, which are long sleeved. 

The tradition is Mandolorian, born from a society who enjoy letting the story of their life stand clear on their skin, and Obi-Wan knows immediately that Cody knew exactly what he was doing when he asked Obi-Wan to help him with his armor.

Obi-Wan raises his gaze and finds that Cody is staring at him, something vulnerable and  _ hopeful _ in his gaze. 

“Would you try,” he says, and his voice is small, gentle, so different from the field of battle he is so comfortable commanding. Obi-Wan can feel tears gathering in his eyes, because his commander, his  _ Cody _ , is offering something that he doesn’t deserve, but he will take anyway, if he can. 

Obi-Wan cradles Cody’s wrist in his hands, and, with as much grace as he can muster, presses his lips against the raised scar of Cody’s offered skin. Instantly, his lips tingle and the world goes sideways for a moment, and something seems to  _ click _ in his perception of the universe, in the bones of his soul. Cody sucks in a sharp breath, and Obi-Wan pulls back, and where before there was a sun, now there is nothing but smooth skin. 

Obi-Wan has always felt, deep down, that he was destined to love a warrior. His past, violent and bloody, has shaped him as much as the teachings of the Order have. He loves Satine, a warrior in her own way. He loves Anakin, his brother, for whom the thrill of the hunt sings in his veins as much as it does for Ahsoka, his Togrutan grand-padawan with fangs and the grace of her ancestors. And, as he looks up and meets Cody’s gaze, Obi-Wan knows he loves this man, this beautiful, brave man, who has stood by him through thick and thin, who’s solid, sunrise presence has never wavered, even when Obi-Wan himself has. 

“ _ Cyare _ ,” Cody whispers, and he wraps Obi-Wan’s hand in his like it is precious. 

“ _ Run’iriduur _ ,” Obi-Wan responds, his heart fit to burst, and Cody raises his other hand to trace his face. Obi-Wan leans into the touch, and then Cody presses up slightly. Obi-Wan leans forward, eager, and their lips meet in a gentle kiss. It is chaste, and lovely, and Obi-Wan smiles as he pulls back, lifting one hand to card through Cody’s curls, then trace a line down his face, following the line of his scar like he has wanted to since Cody pushed saved him from that mine. He feels a thrill, suddenly, that he can kiss it away. But that is for later, and he will never do anything that Cody doesn’t agree to first. For now, he just runs his hands through Cody’s curls again.

Cody humms, and tips their foreheads together into  _ keldabe _ . The Force sings around them,  _ love-right-yes _ pressing against his shields, and Obi-Wan laughs. 

“Something funny?” Cody asks, and there is the confident commander Obi-Wan knows. 

“Nothing, except us,” Obi-Wan says, and Cody leans back, fixing him with a firm stare. 

“Well, if you think this is so funny, why didn’t you say anything? And all that flirting doesn’t count, you flirt with  _ Grievous.” _

Obi-Wan chuckles and takes both of Cody’s hands in his own. “You have a point, my dear,” he is abruptly embarrassed, and he ducks his head. “You and your brothers have so little choice in this world. I didn’t want to force anything on you.”

Cody rolls his eyes, but he smiles and raises Obi-Wan’s hands to his lips. That same tingling sensation ripples through his hands, and Cody looks at him through his lashes as Obi-Wan looks over his hands, smoother than he remembers them ever being. 

“You ridiculous man,” Cody whispers, and Obi-Wan shudders. “I appreciate the sentiment, love, but you are a  _ ridiculous  _ man.”

“Your ridiculous man,” Obi-Wan says smugly, and Cody chuckles, standing and settling beside him on the bed. Obi-Wan pulls him into a hug, and Cody leans his head against his shoulder. 

“My ridiculous man,” he agrees. 

The war isn’t over; they have so much still to do before it is. But Obi-Wan feels peace settle on his soul, as he sits in Cody’s arms, and he knows that with his Commander by his side, he can do anything. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a  
> run'iriduur - soulmate (my own creation, from the words runi (soul) and riduur (spouse))  
> di'kut - idiot  
> oisk - shit  
> Vod'ika - little brother  
> vod - brother  
> haar'chak - damn it!  
> oya - term of agreement  
> Kote - glory  
> cyare - beloved
> 
> Obviously I'm pulling from some legends cannon here:
> 
> Jabiim - detailed in the Star Wars Republic comic series, starting at issue 55  
> POW camp Cody mentioned - detailed in Star Wars Adventures: The Clone Wars - Battle Tales (go read them they are so pretty)  
> Melida/Daan - detailed in Star Wars Jedi Apprentice novels by Jude Watson
> 
> Come @ me on tumblr!


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